


Glass Houses

by evenhisfacewasanalias



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evenhisfacewasanalias/pseuds/evenhisfacewasanalias
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer have to go undercover as a married couple in a model community to solve the murder of an heiress, and they grow closer in the process. Begins sometime after Lucifer starts to admit his feelings for Chloe, but before she can admit any feelings towards him. Lots of fluff and a fair amount of smut coming up, because I think we all need a break from bad things happening in this show and in the real world.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure I was going to do another Lucifer fanfic, but I'm still receiving such wonderful support for [Work for idle hands to do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109833) that I thought I might give it another shot. This one will be a little sillier and a lot fluffier because I think it's what we all need right about now. Plus I can't resist a good fandom cliche.

“No. Absolutely not. This is insane!” 

Chloe can’t believe the Lieutenant is even suggesting this plan. The whole situation is so absurd she doesn’t even think twice about contradicting her superior officer. The Lieutenant, however, has no time for her insubordination.

“This isn’t a request, Detective. The Patels are obviously very upset and want this handled as delicately as possible. And the developer has already graciously offered us to help us, so I expect you to meet with Ms. Palmer shortly and be the very picture of cooperation.”

“But…” 

Lt. Monroe gives her an exhausted look before Chloe can even begin to offer any more excuses. “Look, I can’t spare any of our other teams, but if you’d prefer I can send Dan with you instead?”

It’s obvious that the Lieutenant realizes how much she’s asking of Chloe, and Chloe knows she means well with her suggestion. But she also knows that having Dan with her in this would probably be even worse, and she still needs him to watch Trixie while she’s on this assignment. Which means there’s really one option now…

* * *

“Why Detective, of course I’d love to play house with you!” Lucifer’s grin has grown continuously wider throughout her very awkward explanation of their assignment, during which time she has been heroically resisting the urge to punch something. Possibly the man in front of her.

“We’re not playing house, Lucifer, it’s just a case. It’s been two months since Vidya Patel went missing and there are no substantial leads other than some trace evidence on the body to suggest she was killed somewhere near her home, which is where we’ll be going to investigate. We’re hoping one of the neighbors might tell us something that they didn’t mention to the police before.”

“And so they need our infamous little duo to play the newlywed neighbors for a week - how could I refuse?” Chloe certainly wishes he would. That she even _could_. But nothing she says seems to dim his enthusiasm in the slightest. “I’ll admit I’m not overly fond of the sacraments, but you humans have so many wonderfully quaint traditions surrounding that particular one. I was thinking perhaps somewhere tropical for our honeymoon, maybe Barbados?”

Chloe can already feel another headache coming on. “This isn’t a game, Lucifer. We’re only even pretending to be married because our victim lived in a very conservative suburban neighborhood, and we need to be able to question her neighbors without drawing attention to ourselves.”

Lucifer ignores her obvious irritation and moves further into her space. “Come now, Detective, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it - the two of us together, some lost little island in paradise, and all the trouble we could get into there…” This last part is practically breathed right into her ear, sending traitorous little shivers down her side.

And that right there is the real problem. Because she has thought about it. Not the island thing (though the occasional beach scene may have wormed its way into her mind), but about the two of them together. Things have been a bit…strained since Lucifer admitted how he feels about her. Well, how he _thinks_ he feels about her. Chloe has spent a lot of time denying even the possibility he might feel something real for her, and perhaps even more time going through all the ways this wouldn’t work between them even if he did. They’re just too different. However, Chloe’s attempts at telling Lucifer any of this have been met with several ill-thought out attempts to ‘prove’ himself to her, though for now at least they seem to have reached some sort of awkward stalemate.

It’s not that there’s no interest on her end - even though she will never, ever admit to any of this to him - it’s just that she is absolutely certain that they’ll never work, so what’s the point of even trying? There’s just too much working against them. Aside from Lucifer’s, well, everything, there’s the fact that these things never seem to work out for her, ever. No one ever sticks around for very long. Case in point: Dan. And every boyfriend she’s ever had. Her mother. _Especially_ her mother. Even her father eventually left her, and though Chloe realizes he wasn’t to blame, a small, ugly part of her is still upset with him for dying too soon. Everyone leaves her eventually, and at this point she’s mostly gotten used to it. It doesn’t mean she’s going to invite in more suffering. 

And she certainly didn’t ask for this, to be trapped in some tiny suburban house with Lucifer living out some pale imitation of marriage with a guy who can’t even commit to a single Brittney. She just hopes he isn’t using this as some sort of ploy to seduce her. Not that it would work, but things have finally started getting back to normal between them - well, as normal as they ever could be. And she needs him fully committed to this, if they’re ever going to make it through this nightmare.

“No games, Lucifer, I mean it. It’s bad enough we’re essentially stuck on an extended stake out, I want this case wrapped up as quickly as possible. I want to get home to Trixie. So I need you to be my partner in this.” 

At the mention of Trixie Lucifer finally seems to take this a little more seriously. Mostly. “Why not just bring her with us? She’d really sell the whole nuclear family, American dream thing I assume we’re aiming for.”

“I’m not bringing my child to a potential murder scene, Lucifer.” Her annoyance with him for not thinking his suggestion through is tempered by the fact that he at least seems to understand her need to be with her daughter - despite his professed distaste for children. It also assures her that he’s not planning some grand seduction, if he’s willing to bring her daughter along with them.

“So I take it we’ll not be playing ourselves, then?”

“That’s kind of the whole point of going undercover. No one’s going to really open up to a cop and a nightclub owner slash police consultant. But they might talk to…” she looks down at the file in front of her, “Robert and Barbara Jones, a completely normal business owner and his wife.” She cringes a bit at the word ‘wife’, and looks up to see mirroring a expression of distaste on his face as she reads off their new identities. 

“Couldn’t we just keep our names? Robert and Barbara just sounds so frightfully dull.” Chloe almost laughs at the way Lucifer’s face scrunches up when he repeats the names.

“I think that’s the whole point. I’m pretty sure the name ‘Lucifer Morningstar’ might set off a few alarm bells, or at least a google search. And you’re sort of all over the internet.” Chloe may have looked him up a bit when they first met. There are still some photos she can’t unsee.

“I am, aren’t I?” he preens. Chloe simply rolls her eyes at the response, shoving a copy of the details at him.

“Here, just go memorize this while you get ready. They have our clothes and luggage already prepared for us, so we can go straight to meet with the realtor who’s helping coordinate this.”

* * *

Surprisingly, Lucifer manages to take less time in getting ready than her - if you don’t count the fact that he’s currently complaining to anyone that will listen (and even those who don’t care to) that he is not about to go in public dressed like “some douchebag in seersucker”. She can hear the sounds of Ella’s laughter (and probably photo-taking, for future blackmail) and someone else telling him to suck it up. 

Chloe’s equally uncertain about the outfit they chose for her, but she’s not about to go tell off the people that chose it. It’s honestly not even that bad, if it were on someone else. It’s just not really her.

She supposes this it what her new identity might wear. A sweet little floral sundress that makes her look…softer, somehow. Like she was the type of person to sell expensive, handmade organic skincare products without a trace of irony. Like Barbara Jones.    

She’s steadfastly avoiding looking too hard at herself in the mirror while simultaneously trying to get the dress’s zipper up past where it sticks at the waist. Lucifer, of course, chooses this rather undignified moment to burst in behind her, all of the previous indignation over his new attire suddenly draining out at the sight of hers. She tries to meet his eyes in the mirror but he is focused entirely on her dress (particularly where it still gapes open in the back), so she takes a brief moment to look her fake husband over. And really his outfit isn’t so bad either - the shirt isn’t even seersucker, just a soft blue check with the sleeves rolled up past his forearms. He looks softer like this as well, perhaps even…nice. Which is good. For their investigation, that is. Certainly not for any other reason, Chloe reminds herself quickly.

“Well well, Detective - you almost look, dare I say, sweet like this.” His eyes finally meet hers in the mirror, devilish grin fully back in place. “Which isn’t to say I don’t also love the whole angry boots and leather jacket look you normally go for. But this certainly has its own appeal.”

“Whatever, it’s just a dress.” Chloe is not 12 years old and she will not blush at his stupid comments. She is far too old for that. But Lucifer certainly keeps testing her.

“And it appears to be one with a very finicky zipper. Allow me to offer my services.” 

Apparently that wasn’t a question so much as a warning, because he reaches out immediately towards the garment. One hand goes to her waist, right below where the zipper has stuck, while the other delicately tugs the zipper upwards, tracing over her spine. She can feel the warmth of his hands searing through the soft fabric of the dress, and it takes a great deal of willpower not to move away from the feeling of them against her, or worse, press back into them.

“Nothing underneath? A little hint of naughtiness along with this nice dress?” Chloe purposefully ignores the way her face heats up at the suggestion. And at the feeling of his hand slowly gliding up her back. It certainly doesn’t normally take this long to do up a simple zipper.

“The dress is lined, and the straps would have shown.” Who on earth is she justifying her lack of bra to? Herself, or Lucifer? The man in question simply responds with a smug grin, finishing off her zipper with unnecessary flourish. Now that he’s done she almost regrets the loss of contact between them, but she doesn’t have long to miss it because Lucifer simply continues upward, reaching for her where her hair is pulled back into a messy bun.  He tugs gently at her hair tie until it’s freed, allowing the soft waves to fall over her shoulders. 

“There, now you look the part to perfection.” He finally retreats out of her space, taking a single step backwards, and Chloe lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Despite the fact that she is still flustered from the contact, at least Lucifer seems to be back to his normal (annoying, frustrating) self, maintaining at least some boundaries and not delivering any more heartfelt confessions. Flirting, she can handle, feelings, not so much. 

“We should probably get back out there and get the rest of our things.” She suggests carefully.

“After you, Detective.”

* * *

“You two look so cute together!” Ella apparently still has her camera out and is furiously snapping photos of the two of them in their new clothes. Dan is there as well, looking less than pleased. He reaches for Chloe’s arm and pulls her off to the side.

“Are you sure about this, Chloe? Why don’t I just go with you? It’d make a lot more sense than this.” At the mention of ‘this’ Dan looks over at Lucifer like he still can’t figure out what the guy is even doing here.

“It’s fine, Dan. Besides, I need you to take Trixie for a bit, I’m not sure how long this will take and we have to stay at this house until we can find a better lead.” Dan still looks a little put out, like she’s obviously choosing Lucifer over him. Though to be honest, she sort of is, just not like he’s thinking. But at least he seems to accept that looking after Trixie is more important than however uncomfortable he is with the whole situation.

“Yeah, alright. You know I’m happy to have her over any time. And at least I can feel a little better knowing he’ll be sleeping on some cramped sofa during this whole thing.” His attempts at a joke fall a little flat, though Lucifer clearly hears him and turns his attention to the two of them.

“I don’t believe all this,” his hands sweep out to indicate his rather tall stature, among other things, “could possibly fit on some sofa. I will of course be sleeping…”

“In the guest bedroom.” Chloe finishes, not wanting another fight breaking out between the two men. Dan looks annoyingly smug at her response, while Lucifer mocks indignation at the very idea. She tugs at Lucifer’s arm, leading him out of the room, secretly enjoying the way Dan’s face fall at the gesture. 

“Come on Mr. Jones, we’ve got a realtor to meet.” She doesn’t miss the way Lucifer immediately softens, or the fact that Ella is still snapping photos. 

“Certainly, Mrs. Jones.” 


	2. Moving In

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just take my car - or why I’m already wearing this dreadful clothing if we’re simply going to meet the realtor.” 

Chloe looks over to her passenger seat where Lucifer is already back to complaining about his outfit. She has to confess it is a little strange to see him looking quite so  _wholesome_ , but he doesn’t look anywhere near as bad as he seems to think he does. Not that she’s going to cater to his bruised ego or anything, despite the numerous compliments she’s received from the man about her own attire (mostly stemming from his lamenting his own ill fortune in comparison to her perceived good luck, so it barely counts). 

“She has an office that’s actually in the development, in one of the model homes or something, and then we’ll go straight to the house afterward.”

“So we should be in character for this, I take it? Alright then, Robert Jones, totally normal,  _completely_  boring. The dullest human being I could possibly imagine. I just need to picture him in my mind…” She watches as Lucifer’s fingers fly to his temples and his face scrunches up in mock determination, “No, wait, I’m seeing Detective Douche.” At this he turns to grin widely at her. “Actually, that seems about right.”

Without even taking her eyes off the road she reaches over to smack at her partner, hand blindly connecting with soft cotton and hard muscle, but she can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto her face at the joke. Lucifer mumbles out a quick “only kidding!” but he’s still smiling as well.  

“We don’t need to be in character with Ms. Palmer, she’s the one who’s helping with the investigation so she already knows who we are. The whole thing is a little unorthodox, but if one of the victim’s neighbors was involved or just knows something about what happened, this may be our best shot.”

“I’m certainly not one to complain about being a little unorthodox.” He leers, while Chloe once again rolls her eyes.

“No, you just complain about having to wear a cotton shirt.”  

“But silk feels so much better against the skin. It’s just so sensual. You should really try it, Detective. You’ll never wish to go back.”

Chloe pointedly watches the road in front of her, ignoring the way Lucifer has shifted towards her as much as the seatbelt will comfortably allow, or the way he practically purrs that last bit, and particularly the many ways she could interpret that statement. Thankfully he gives up on getting a response from her (or perhaps he’s already gotten the response he wanted?), and shifts back into his own space, smiling to himself as he returns to reading over the particulars of the case. They fall into a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip, which, unfortunately, gives Chloe more time to think.

It’s just now starting to really sink in that she’s going to be  _living_  with Lucifer. Originally she had only thought of the inconvenience, of being away from her daughter and her own home, and the annoyance of living with the most infuriating man she had ever known (her ex-husband included). She hadn’t really considered what it would be like staying in close quarters with the man, or how she was supposed to deal with his constant flirting and innuendos with nowhere to retreat. At least they would have separate bedrooms, she didn’t even want to think about…

And of course now she’s thinking about it. Sharing a bedroom, a  _bed,_ with Lucifer. She had borrowed his bed once, on a night that was best left unremembered by all parties involved, but he had not been in it at the time. She unwittingly imagines waking up beside him in the morning, seeing him rumpled with sleep and so vulnerable. Would she really be able to resist the temptation? Or would she finally give in to what she knew they both wanted?

Only it wasn’t what she wanted, not really. She didn’t want one night (or one morning) of mindless passion, followed by weeks of awkwardness. It was pretty much guaranteed to ruin their partnership - which, despite her complaining, was something she was beginning to really rely on. She honestly liked the weird relationship they had built. It was, rather tragically, one of the most stable relationships in her life right now, and she wasn’t willing to risk that for a fling. Even a very,  _very_ hot one. She sneaks a peek over at the man in question, praying that he can’t somehow read her mind, before returning to her thoughts. However much Lucifer insisted that he might feel something more for her, she knew the guy’s m.o. Why would he change a lifetime of habits just for her?

Before her thoughts can grow too maudlin, however, she catches sight of the sign for The Palisades, turning her car towards the elaborate wrought iron gates. She spots the little call box off to the right, but before she even roll down her window to dial in the number, the gates are already opening for them.

“Well that’s convenient.” Lucifer chirps in.

“Kind of eerie if you ask me.” She mumbles back, driving through the opened gates.

“Well if you want eerie this is certainly the place for it.” It’s obvious what he referring to. The orderliness of the suburbs always seems kind of strange after the chaos of the city proper, but this neighborhood takes it way too far. In front of them is a neat little row of houses, all with perfectly manicured lawns, almost identical to one another aside from the varied shades of tasteful pastels that distinguish them. Small children play happily outside in the mid-afternoon sunlight, watched over by mothers in outfits not to dissimilar to Chloe’s own, though likely costing a great deal more. Their arrival is not missed by the watchful women.

“I feel a bit like we’ve just entered Stepford.” She grouses to no one in particular. 

“I’m fairly certain whoever came up with the idea for suburban living had to have spent a considerable amount of time in Purgatory. It’s uncanny how alike they are, really.” Lucifer’s face is completely serious as he says this, and she can’t help but let out a little laugh. He’s certainly not wrong.

As they continue driving she carefully counts the house numbers, searching for #37, nearly reaching the end of the current development. A surprisingly dense forest rises up just beyond the construction zone, a brief glimpse of the natural world amidst the unnaturalness of the planned community.

Angela Palmer is waiting outside for them as they pull into the driveway, a just-shy-of-middle-age blonde woman wearing an immaculate skirt suit and a not entirely patient expression. She shuffles them inside a well-appointed foyer before she begins speaking to them.

“I apologize for the hurry, I have some investors coming into the neighborhood shortly and I’d like them to see that we’ve managed to sell the house.” 

Chloe tries to parse out what was just said. “Ms. Palmer, I’m a little confused here. You are aware we’re not actually buying the house, right?”

“Of course you’re not! But certainly your boss informed you of the conditions for staying here? A quiet investigation, preferably without using the m-word, no upsetting any of our residents here, and in turn I can show my investors that these properties are still in demand.” So apparently Ms. Palmer isn’t just the realtor, then. 

“I can’t imagine why anyone  _wouldn’t_  want to live here.” Lucifer is laying on the charm, but the sarcasm is far too obvious.

”This sort of development appeals to a very selective clientele. Most of the city’s well-to-do young professionals prefer beach front property, tacky mansions, and fences to keep the rest of the world out.” She says with obvious disdain for all of those things, “Families at The Palisades want  _community_. And that is what I can offer them.”

“I thought ‘palisade’ actually means fence?” Chloe can’t help but remark.

“Well, yes, it is a gated community, of course. The safety of our residents is certainly our first priority.” Ms. Palmer rushes to respond.

“And having a young woman murdered within those gates would be very bad for business?” Chloe sends a sharp look towards Lucifer at the comment. 

The other woman looks more than a little fed up at this point, “There’s no evidence she was murdered here! It could have happened anywhere!” She collects herself just as quickly. “I mean we’re all very sorry about what happened to that poor woman. Just…please tie this up as quietly as you can. And quickly. I can only lend you this house for a week, and then I really need to start showing it again to  _actual_  clients.” 

“I assure you we will be out of your way as soon as possible. I take it we will be staying in this house for the time being?” 

The realtor-slash-developer looks at her as though she can’t believe that Chloe is even a real detective. “This house is my office.  _You_  will be staying at Ms. Patel’s former residence, #24. She is the reason you are even here, correct?”  

Chloe tries to wrap her mind around this new detail. “We were told the house was furnished, it’s not…” She can’t think of any polite way to ask if she was going to be expected to sleep in a murder victim’s bed. 

“Of course not, don’t be gruesome. Her family took possession of all her belongings after Ms. Patel failed to make her mortgage payments twice in succession. The current furnishings belong to my company, we stage all our houses so that prospective buyers can fully visualize the potential of each home.” 

Chloe is somewhat relieved by the news that the furniture is new, even if the rest of the house is still a possible crime scene. Ms. Palmer, clearly deciding that the time for inane questions is over, digs through her purse to pull out a set of keys and large envelope. 

“Here are the keys to the house and front gate, plus a list of all the security codes and emergency numbers you might need, and a schedule of all the community events going on this week.” Chloe reaches for the envelope as Lucifer swiftly pockets the keys.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” She asks while very obviously checking her watch. 

“Just one more for now - you just handed us a key to the gate, but it opened automatically when we first arrived.” 

Another disbelieving stare, as if she couldn’t possibly be this stupid. “We do have security cameras, Ms. Decker, and I was anticipating your arrival so I let you in myself. Surely you’ve viewed the security footage as part of this investigation?” 

Lucifer grins at her obvious embarrassment. Looking back, the answer was so obvious. They had even discussed those tapes shortly before coming here. No guests had been through the gates surrounding the victim’s disappearance, which has led them to suspect one of the other residents.  

After a hurried goodbye, the two were shuffled back out the door to make the very short drive to their temporary new home, where a moving van was now parked at the curb.

“To add to the verisimilitude?” Lucifer suggested teasingly. The only things they brought with them were two small suitcases of clothes and necessities, and Chloe’s case files and laptop. It’s not like they were really moving in.

She hopped out of the car and went to gather her bags from the trunk, but Lucifer was suddenly scooping her up before she even know what had happened. 

“What the hell, Lucifer? Put me down!” He had one arm around her back, the other behind her knees as he made long strides towards the front door.  

“I don’t think I will. I believe it’s traditional to carry one’s bride over the threshold.” She was forced to put her arms around his neck or risk behind dropped as he fiddled with getting the keys in the front door. This close, every inhale was filled with the scent of him - something clean and smokey and masculine. She shakes her head to clear out these thoughts. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s just for newlyweds, or you know, people who are  _actually_  married!” Chloe glares up at Lucifer with no real heat in her gaze as he grins broadly down at her, both of them caught in a strange staring contest as they make it through the doorway.

A sudden voice startles them both out of their reverie, “Aw man, where’s my camera when I need it?” 

Ella is smirking down at them from the top of the stairs, while several other members of the CSI team peek out of the rooms they’re working in to see what’s going on. Chloe immediately jumps out of Lucifer’s arms, landing with far less grace than she’d hoped for. At least this explains the moving van outside. 

“They cleaned the place out pretty well, but we’re hoping we might still find some evidence they missed. Not that we think she was murdered in here or anything, I mean can you imagine?” Ella babbles as she concludes her investigation of the stairway.  “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here soon enough, there’s only a few more rooms we haven’t looked at yet and they already did a pretty thorough search a couple months ago. Then you can have the house all to yourselves.” She smiles down at them both, like this is all some sort of Parent Trap-esque scheme to get them to hook up.  Chloe wouldn’t entirely put it past the other woman, aside from the part where someone actually had to be murdered for this scenario to occur.  

“Take as long as you need,” Chloe’s in no rush to be alone with her partner just yet, “just let me know when it’s safe to stash my things.” 

“Oh, the master bedroom is already cleared, it’s one of the first places we checked, so you should be set.” She points to the door directly behind her. 

“And the guest bedroom?” She says a little more loudly than she needs to, hoping to remind everyone there that Lucifer is NOT sleeping in the same room.

“Right! Yes! I mean no, it’s not done yet.” 

“Darling, you weren’t serious about making me sleep in some dreary little guest room, were you? What if there’s no heat in this house? We could very well freeze to death in our sleep, and all because you were unwilling to share a little body heat with your loving husband.” Ella has ceased all pretense of doing forensics work in order to witness the exchange. 

“Lucifer, we live in Southern California, hell will freeze over before that happens.” With that she quickly escapes back outside to grab her things, savoring the chance to finally have the last word.  

* * *

Far sooner than she would have liked, the CSI team has loaded their equipment and samples back into the fake moving van. She and Lucifer have mostly been relegated to the master bedroom in order to keep out of their way. This was awkward enough before, but now there’s no reason for him to be here and yet he’s still casually occupying the left side of her bed like he belongs there, texting away on his phone while she goes over her case files for the hundredth time. There’s no cable here, or wifi, so they’re not left with much else to occupy themselves. Chloe carefully avoids thinking about any other ways they might occupy their time. 

“Well this is boring,” Lucifer announces, “let’s go look at some other rooms at least.” 

Chloe is secretly thankful for something else to do that’s not rereading her files or getting lost in her own very inappropriate thoughts. But it turns out investigating the house isn’t particularly exciting. Being a model home means that all the rooms and perfectly nice, and completely devoid of personality. There’s a number of books in the study, but they seem to have been chosen more for their aesthetic than for their contents. The artwork on the walls is similarly all for show, and the pieces are as inoffensive as they are unimaginative. The only items of potential interest are the pool table in the game room, and the actual pool in the backyard. 

There is also the issue of the totally empty kitchen. Chloe supposes they can simply order takeout for dinner, but she feels like she needs to do something. Preferably something where they can leave the house for a bit. It’s a little late in the evening to start introducing themselves to the neighbors, which leaves the most obvious option.

“So how do you feel about grocery shopping?”.

* * *

It’s easy to forget how far away everything is outside the city. It’s nearly a twenty minute drive just to get to the grocery store. It might not actually take that much more time than finding a grocery store in the city, but the lack of anything interesting along the drive makes it feel so much longer.

Lucifer looks a little horrified the second they step inside the supermarket. It’s a little…sterile, to be sure. And a certainly a bit more sprawling than you’d normally find in the city, but it’s not that strange.

“Detective, how could anyone hope to find anything in this monstrosity? I’m truly concerned we might just find an angry minotaur at the center of this labyrinth.”

“Please tell me you’ve seen a grocery store before.” She teases her worried partner. 

“Of course I’ve seen a grocery store, but this is  _not_  a grocery store. This is…a library of gluttony. And not even the fun kind.”

Chloe sometimes wonders if she could actually sprain her eyes from rolling them so often. “Come on you big baby, we just need a couple things to get us through the week. We’ll make sure to avoid any minotaurs along the way.”

But for all Lucifer’s dismay at the sprawling market, he certainly knows his way around good food. In fact, his ability to pick out the best produce is nearly pornographic. Chloe spends a little longer than she’d like to admit watching him expertly test the firmness of each avocado, long fingers curling around the fruit and gently pressing against the flesh. But she draws the line at watching him fondle the cantelope, and drags him over to the cereal aisle. Her partner seems a little perplexed by the variety at first, but then he immediately goes for whatever is the most colorful.    

“Here we are, these so-called ‘Froot Loops’ promise ‘natural fruit flavors’.” She honestly can’t tell if he’s joking at this point.

“You’re almost as bad as Trixie.”

“Coming from you, I shall take that as the highest compliment.” 

Chloe’s not quite sure how to respond to that, so she settles for snatching the box from Lucifer and placing it back on the shelf. But as she’s trying to decide whether to go for the cereal with the highest fiber content, or with the most vitamins and minerals, she suddenly wonders why. She’s not shopping for a growing kid right now, and a little sugar never hurt anyone. They’re practically on vacation right now, or at least on some kind of break with reality, however temporary. The rules of her well-ordered life no longer apply here, and she starts to wonder exactly how far that extends. Before she’s even fully aware of it Chloe finds herself dropping a box of Coco Puffs into the cart, ignoring the smile on Lucifer’s face that seems to imply he completely followed her train of thought.

The rest of their shopping excursion is generally uneventful, other than a brief standoff in the wine section (“We’re on the department’s tab, why not have a little fun?” “They do actually check the receipts I turn it, and I’m not going to be the one to try and explain a $432 bottle of wine to them.”) which was eventually resolved with Lucifer offering to buy a more reasonably priced wine on his own dime. Overall it’s actually kind of nice in a way she hadn’t expected. She loves going to the store with Trixie, but it’s a totally different experience shopping with another grown up (even if he doesn’t always act like one). Lucifer honestly enjoys food without being too much of a snob about it, and she finds herself constantly revising her shopping list to include the things he enjoys. Plus the way he was describing a smoked gouda grilled cheese with spicy apple chutney had her practically salivating. 

Mostly it’s just enjoyable getting to spend some time together when there’s no immediate crisis. Even if it’s just doing something as mundane as grocery shopping. Before today she never really pictured Lucifer doing anything so…domestic. She sort of always imagined he had food delivered to him, or prepared by a personal chef, and that he probably paid someone else to clean and sent his laundry out - though the latter might still prove to be true, considering his predilection for silk and other dry clean only fabrics. The sort of things you’d never find in the wardrobe of a single mother. So maybe he wasn’t exactly big on laundry, but he did seem accustomed to grocery shopping and cooking for himself, and judging by his general tidiness, perhaps he wasn’t too dependent on professional cleaners for maintaining his immaculate apartment. 

Chloe catches herself in the middle of mentally divvying up the household chores between them on the drive home, swiftly reminding herself that the situation was only temporary. A week at most, and probably less considering their unusual success rate. There was no point planning for a future that would never be. 

Lucifer seemed to notice the sudden change in Chloe’s mood, but for once he didn’t remark on it.  

* * *

When they arrive back at the house, Chloe goes to put up the groceries while Lucifer immediately starts in on dinner. It turns out that the smoked gouda grilled cheese is even better than described, and it’s all Chloe can do to keep from moaning at the first bite of smoky, cheesy goodness with just the perfect amount of kick from the chutney. Lucifer looks pretty pleased at her obvious enjoyment all the same. And even though this whole thing has an expiration date, she thinks it might not be so crazy mentally assigning him the job of cooking since he seems to enjoy it so much, And she definitely enjoys him enjoying it. There’s a lot of mutual enjoyment going on. Chloe nearly chokes on her sandwich when that thought sneaks in, and tries valiantly not to think of any other “mutually enjoyable” scenarios.

She’s suddenly very thankful for Lucifer’s gift of a nice bottle of wine, as she rushes to gulp down the remains of her first glass. Lucifer automatically reaches to pour her another, which she quietly resolves to savor this time. Their empty plates are finally pushed aside, with promises from Chloe to take care of them later, but neither moves away from where they’re seated side by side at the kitchen counter. They had both agreed that the formal dining room was far too stuffy for grilled cheese. Somehow this eventually led them around to discussing their ideal homes. Chloe admits she might like something a little further out, not quite the suburbs, but perhaps something overlooking the city rather than right in the middle of it.

“So you’re telling me you want to live up in the Hollywood Hills in one of those garish mansions with all the celebrity neighbors your heart desires?”

“No, definitely no celebrity neighbors,” Chloe jumps to refute the idea, “that whole thing hasn’t really appealed to me since…”

“Hot Tub High School?” He leers, glancing swiftly but pointedly down at her chest.

“Yes, exactly, thank you for bringing that up again. As usual. But no, being around celebrities stopped appealing to me long before my brief but far too memorable acting career.” With this she levels a hard glare at Lucifer’s continued grinning. “Word of advice, never meet your heroes.”

“Oh now there’s a story there!” 

“Not really, I just…let’s just say I finally got to meet one of the Coreys, and he was kind of dick.”

“Haim or Feldman?”

“It doesn’t really matter. But no, no celebrity neighbors. No garish mansion. Something small, cozy. It’s just me and Trixie, after all. We don’t take up a lot of space.” And a big house is just a reminder of all you don’t have to fill it with.

“But it won’t always be?” He questioned.

“Won’t always be what?”

“Just the two of you. I mean you’re only, what? Thirty…” Chloe gives him a challenging look, just daring him to guess her age. Lucifer, for once, seems to understand that discretion is the better part of valor “Early thirties. You look wonderful, love. The point is, it’s a little soon to be this committed to eternal spinsterhood.”

“I don’t think you can really be a spinster if you’ve been married before. And anyway, it’s not like there’s a lot of great prospects waiting for me. Right now the only men I come into contact with are either cops or criminals.” Apparently two glasses of wine and she’s already confessing her dating woes to him.

“And which of those am I, Detective?” The tone is teasing, but she can tell he’s honestly a bit curious what she thinks of him. She wishes she knew herself.

“I wish I was entirely sure. Though you have been staying on the right side of the law lately, I’m not completely sure you fit in the cop category either.”

“Once again, I think I’ll take that as a compliment.” His smile is completely genuine.  

“Besides, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like you’d want to live off in a little mountain cabin with me and Trixie.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Detective. High above the ground, lots of sunlight, a nice view - seems exactly like what I’m looking for.” And it was true, Lucifer had earlier insisted on all of these things for his ideal living space, as kind of an antithesis of his previous home, or “Hell” as he kept insisting. “I suppose I could even tolerate your little progeny as well, with so much else to recommend the place.” And the way he’s looking at her makes it very clear that  _she_  is what’s appealing in this scenario.

Suddenly the whole conversation takes on a whole new weight, and Chloe begins to feel a little lightheaded. She thinks that now may not be the best time for this discussion. 

“I think it’s probably time to go to bed…”

Lucifer’s grin grows exponentially, “why, Detective, I thought you’d never ask!”

“…to our separate beds. To sleep.” It’s as much directed at him as a reminder to herself, “we need to start actually talking the residents tomorrow, see if anyone knows anything.”

“Very well, darling, but I’ll just be right across the hall if you need anything. And I do mean  _anything_.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The response sounds sharp, even to her own ears. She softens her tone. “And really, thank you again for dinner. And for going along with this whole charade.”

“You’re very welcome, Detective.”

Chloe heads up the stairs first, feeling even more lightheaded now that before. She wants nothing more than to splash some cold water on her face and shock her system back into proper order. 

When she reaches her room, her bed is still a mess of case files. Well, the right side is, Lucifer’s…  _the left side_  is still perfectly tidy. She tosses up her suitcase on the cleared space, riffling through for something to sleep in, wishing they would have just let her bring  _some_  of her own clothing. No one’s going to see her in her pajamas, aside from maybe Lucifer. But there has to be something in this bag appropriate for bed.

 _Ella_. Chloe thinks to herself that this must be Lopez’s doing, or someone’s idea of a practical joke. Buried among all the floral sundresses and demure cardigans is a lacy chemise, apparently intended for her to sleep in. Unlike the rest of her pastel wardrobe, the chemise is a rich burgundy satin with a delicate lace trim. This is… _completely_ inappropriate. And absolutely not what she is going to sleep in.

She’s more than a little annoyed when she charges across the hall, chemise still crumpled in her hands. Lucifer opens at the first knock.

“Well, well, changed your mind about having a sleepover already?” He beams, leaning casually against the door frame.

“Not a chance. I need pajamas,” Chloe waves the nightgown in front of his face, “ _this_  is not pajamas.” 

Lucifer looks back from the deep red fabric being thrust into his eye line, down to the woman standing irate in front of him. Chloe realizes immediately that he’s imagining her in the chemise right now and quickly brings her hand back down.

“Well I haven’t had a chance to look through my suitcase yet - been avoiding it, really - but I’m sure we could find something to suit your needs. I wouldn’t wish you to be uncomfortable, my dear.” 

Chloe lets the pet name slide because he’s actually opening his suitcase to do as asked. After a few moments he pulls out a nicely folded set of traditional blue striped pajamas with a flourish.

“Here you are, Detective, though they might be a little long on you…” He’s standing at his full height again, and the difference between them has never felt quite so obvious as it does not.

“Thanks, Lucifer.” She offers up honestly, taking the offered set. “But wait, what are you doing to sleep in?”

“Oh I’ve always preferred to sleep in the nude.”

Chloe’s eyes go wide, and Lucifer of course can’t miss her response, smiling not-at-all-innocently back at her expression.

“No, that’s…you should…here,” she tries to hand the pajama set back. She can figure something else out - she’s not at all mentally prepared to deal with a naked Lucifer sleeping right across the hall.

“Perhaps a compromise might be in order?” Lucifer offers, taking back only the pajama pants, leaving her with the oversize top. 

“Ok, yeah, that works.” Chloe relaxes a little, feeling her momentary panic subsiding.

“Though I will expect something in return for my sacrifice, of course.” 

Chloe quirks an eyebrow at him. “These pajamas aren’t even your’s.”

“Oh no, I would gladly give them over to you. I mean for subjecting myself to this cotton prison all night.” He looks with disdain and the pajama pants still in his hand. 

“I’ll be sure to put in a word to the Mayor to get you a Medal of Valor, then.” 

“I was thinking something a little more mutually rewarding.” Chloe is now very aware of just how close Lucifer stands to her, casually invading her space like he belongs there. She steps back out of the doorway, clutching the pajama top her her chest.

“Goodnight, Lucifer.” She says with as much finality as she can muster, turning back towards her own room.

“Goodnight, Detective. And sweet dreams.”

Chloe refuses to look back, swiftly shutting herself into her room. It’s going to be a long night.  


	3. Game Night

It actually was, unsurprisingly, a very long night. It was always hard for Chloe to get to sleep in unfamiliar surroundings, a bad side effect of her unsteady home life as a kid, growing up with an actress for a mom. And it certainly didn’t help that she remained acutely aware of Lucifer’s half naked presence right across the hall. Or the fact the other side of the bed still smelled like him, warm and masculine, simultaneously comforting and stupidly arousing. Any bit of sleep she managed to catch was filled with entirely inappropriate dreams about her errant partner. Her waking thoughts weren’t much of an improvement.

The obnoxious twittering of waking birds alerts her to the fact that morning is already here, and there’s no longer any possible hope of a few more hours uninterrupted sleep. She might as well get up and take a shower or something.

Checking out the master bathroom, Chloe supposes the house has one thing really going for it. Her own bathroom seems tiny and austere by comparison. This one is pretty much the definition of lavish. She’s currently torn between either the luxurious waterfall shower or the jacuzzi bathtub, both flanked by heated towel racks. In the end, the bathtub wins out, if only because the controls look a little more manageable. And it’s not like she has anywhere in particular to be this morning, so she can afford to soak for a bit.

Slipping into the perfectly heated water immediately eases some of the pent up tension in her body, and a flick of a switch has bubbling jets hitting her back and legs in just the right spot. It’s almost enough to make this whole operation seem worth it. Chloe allows herself to relax into the soothing motions of the water for far longer than she had originally intended.

But eventually she grows a little bored and starts playing around with the different functions. She discovers the perfect settings for an aquatic back massage, as well as the precise settings for splashing a quarter of the water out of the tub. There’s even a detachable hose, which she uses to wash and rinse her hair. But she can’t avoid her own thoughts forever, and eventually the tension creeps back in just as if it never left in the first place.

So Chloe gives up on the whole relaxing bath experience, toweling herself off briskly before collapsing face first back onto the bed, muffling her groan of frustration into the mattress. She had known going into this that being stuck in close quarters with Lucifer was going to be intense, but it hasn’t even been 24 hours together and she’s already wound unbearably tight. And she can’t just leave, or hide out in the bedroom all day, so she needs to do _something_ to relieve a little of this tension or she is going to do something totally stupid. Possibly involving Lucifer.

Without her being entirely conscious of it, one of her hands has already snuck its way beneath the towel, but at this point she’s past worrying about it. In fact, this doesn’t really seem like such a terrible idea. Maybe she could just work off a little of her frustration, and then she could greet the day totally refreshed and able to handle anything her partner/current roommate could dish out. 

She allows her hand to continue along its path, tracing up her inner thigh, finding that her body is clearly several steps ahead of her brain. She’s already slick and wanting as her fingers slide along her folds, and she can’t quite suppress the sharp intake of breath when her fingers brush against the little hidden bundle of nerves that seems to be the focal point of all this tension thrumming through her. But the likely very near proximity of her aggravating housemate makes her clamp down on any other sudden vocalizations. She’s just going to make this quick and quiet - this being neither the time nor the place for something more drawn out or noisy. Not unless she wants to risk the current object of her thoughts finding out exactly what she’s doing in here. 

And she tries, she really does, not to allow any more thoughts of her philandering partner to enter into this, but it can’t be helped. It was barely more than a few short hours ago that he was teasing her about her sleeping attire, or his usual lack thereof, and offering to share her bed. It’s so easy to bring to mind the image of him leaning rather attractively against the doorframe, strong forearms still temptingly exposed by his rolled up sleeves. His hands are equally beautiful and painfully tempting - a piano player’s hands, with long, elegant fingers that are still firmly masculine. She imagines those fingers on her now, skillfully bringing her right to the brink and then swiftly drawing back, endlessly teasing. But she doesn’t take the time to tease herself, already so close that she can no longer bear the thought of even slowing down. She’s jumping ahead in her fantasy a bit, trying to speed up her own climax.

For some reason it’s the image of Lucifer holding her afterward that finally draws her over the edge, her release unexpectedly intense as a result. She’s not entirely sure it’s a very realistic scenario, but it’s what finally breaks through all the tension and allows her some modicum of relief. Still shaking from the experience, she rolls onto her side and allows herself to come back down a little. Her blood is still pounding in her ears, and her breath is coming out in shaky pants, but she finally feels completely relaxed - for the first time since she learned of their assignment. 

Coming back to awareness, she realizes that morning was well and truly underway at this point. So Chloe finally gets up and goes back to getting ready for the day, washing up (again) and drying her hair. She doesn’t bother putting it up today, allowing it to fall down in soft waves as Lucifer had styled it the previous day. She’s already convinced that this day is going to be much easier, now they’ve had some time to adjust to the house and she’s gotten a chance to relax a bit. She quickly throws on one of her Barbara Jones-approved floral sundresses before heading downstairs, congratulating herself on her plan being a total success.

* * *

Her plan was a complete failure. Apparently, her attempt at finding some relief had merely primed every single nerve in her body to react even more strongly to the sight of Lucifer in their kitchen cooking breakfast, wearing nothing but the low slung pajama pants from last night. Her eyes are glued to the little V of his hips that peeks out from beneath his waistband, which is such a weird thing to focus on but clearly she is no longer in control of her libido. Or anything else about this situation. Lucifer looks up from the pans of sizzling bacon and eggs, aiming a self-satisfied smile at her as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking. He doesn’t call her out on the staring, however.

“Good morning, dearest. Now I just was thinking, do you prefer Barb or Barbie? And eggs sunny side up or over easy?” 

“I’d _prefer_ Barbara. And over medium, thanks.” She grumps as she slides onto one of the seats at the kitchen island, taking a grateful sip of the coffee that’s already been set out for her, made exactly the way she prefers. 

“What about sweetheart?” He suggests instead, and despite the proffered coffee and breakfast it is much too early for pet names. Or any of this. 

“No.” 

“Honey bunch?” 

“ _No.”_  

“My little snuggle muffin?” 

“Absolutely not!”

But he continues on with even worse suggestions. “What about baby cakes? Angel face? Doodle bug?” 

A surprised laugh finally escapes at that last one. “Ok now you’re just making these up.” 

“I’m sadly not.” He insists while sliding her eggs onto the plate in front of her. She realizes she could easily get used to this, and quickly tamps down on that thought.

“So what should I call you then - Bobby? Bob?” Neither of them really seem to fit, and from the disgusted look on Lucifer’s face he definitely agrees. 

“Bobby is a child’s name. And Bob makes me sound like a serial killer, or a pervert or something.”

“You’re telling me you’re not either of these things?” She teases back, chuckling at his offended expression. 

“That’s it, no bacon for you!” 

Chloe tries to grab some off the plate where it’s cooling before he can move it away, but he’s too quick for her. She jumps out of her seat to try and follow the move, but Lucifer simply lifts the plate high over his head. Suddenly lacking any sense of shame or dignity she even goes goes so far as to jump for it, only to find herself landing barely a hair’s breadth away from Lucifer’s very firm, very naked torso. Her hand still lingers on his warm shoulder from where she had used it for leverage, and she quickly snatches it away as though burned. She awkwardly reaches up to rub at her own neck and twist her hair back from her face, for lack of anything better to do and to keep her traitorous hand from reaching out towards him again.

“You’ve changed your mind then, I see? You no longer want it?” He asks coyly. It seems they can’t even get through a conversation about breakfast food without some kind of double meaning slipping in. Chloe resolves to ignore the innuendo and continue on as if he were merely discussing bacon. 

“I can just get my own.” She moves towards the fridge in hopes of calling his bluff, realizing too late that she’s inadvertently fallen into innuendo herself. 

“Oh can you?” He retorts, eyebrow raised, and oh god, Lucifer knew! She doesn’t know how he knows but somehow he does - or does he? He couldn’t have possibly heard her this morning, and despite her occasional suspicions he can’t _actually_ read minds. Chloe tries to calm her rapidly beating heart, realizing he’s probably just teasing her. There’s no reason for her to panic like this. 

And in the meantime, he’s apparently lowered the plate back down, more focused on shooting her knowing-but-couldn’t-possibly-be-actually-knowing looks. She takes the opportunity this lapse presents to snatch several strips of bacon before sliding back into to her seat. 

“Looks like I won’t have to, I guess.” She announces cheekily, biting into the crispy bacon. 

“You needn’t have worried, Detective, I never had any intention of letting you go without.” He replies meaningfully. Chloe chokes down her bite, trying and failing not to read too much into his words. 

At least the remainder of breakfast is mostly free of innuendo, as they turn their focus to the case. Chloe’s plans for today are to look around for any possible clues as to where the murder might have taken place, now that the house has been ruled out by the CSI team, and then maybe to try and talk to one of their neighbors without arousing any suspicion. However, Chloe has no idea how they’re going to get the info they need without seeming weird and nosy. She’s barely ever spoken with her own neighbors, other that the usual brief hello or an awkward conversation about the weather - a very limited topic in a city that stays pleasantly sunny pretty much year round. And they only have a week to somehow maneuver their way into their neighbors’ confidence. 

“Maybe we should look at the community events calendar or…” whatever Chloe was about to suggest next is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door. From the sound of it, it’s certainly not Ms. Palmer or anyone on the force. Chloe abandons Lucifer to the kitchen to go and answer it, opening the door to discover a petite woman in a sweater set bearing cupcakes. 

“Hi, I’m Cynthia Nyugen, your new next door neighbor! My husband Derek and I saw you moving in yesterday and we just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Derek’s in finance, so he’s off at work right now, but I figured us girls could get to know each other a little better - here!” And then Chloe suddenly has an armful of chocolate cupcakes. 

“They’re gluten free and made with avocado instead of butter, so they’re totally healthy!” Cynthia assures her, not that there’s anything reassuring about avocado in a dessert. Chloe forces a smile in response. 

“Thanks…well I’m Barbara Jones, and my husband Robert and I just got married. He’s…” she’s trying to decide whether she should state his job title, like Cynthia had just done, or explain that he’s right there back in the kitchen. A bare arm sliding around her waist keeps her from having to finish that sentence.

“Right behind you, love.” Apparently Lucifer hasn’t bothered putting on a shirt in the meantime, and Cynthia is obviously appreciative of the fact. “Robert Jones, a pleasure to meet one of our new neighbors.” 

Cynthia actually giggles in response. “Well we’re always happy to welcome new families into our little community. You’ll let us know if you need any help getting settled in, of course. And then you have to come over to our place this evening to meet Derek and some of the others - every Friday we invite a few of the couples over for a little grown up game night. Tonight you’ll be able to meet the Isaacsons. It’s super fun, you two should totally come!” She demands brightly, throwing in a little shimmy to prove how ‘super fun’ it all was. 

Lucifer’s expression turns a little wicked then, which was always a sign of trouble. “Well I do love grown up games.” 

Chloe does her best to elbow him stealthily, and thankfully Cynthia doesn’t seem to notice the move, or Lucifer’s pained grunt in response. 

“We’ll be there.” She smiles back at the other woman, not entirely forced this time. This was as good a chance as any to find out more about Vidya’s neighbors.

“Perfect, we’ll see you at 8!”

* * *

“This isn’t exactly how I anticipated our evening turning out.” Lucifer says a little too loudly as he glances down at the pile of board games on the table in front of them.

Thankfully their hosts are no longer in the room, but Chloe still gives him a pointed look that clearly implies he should stop talking. He doesn’t.

“I mean when someone invites you over for a ‘grown up game night’, you expect something ‘grown up’ - like perhaps strip poker, or even regular poker, not…” Lucifer waves his hands wildly over the stack of colorful boxes, “Candyland!” 

Chloe can’t help the laugh that escapes her at Lucifer’s dismay. If anything his pouting only worsens at her amusement. 

“Well I’m glad at least one of us is enjoying themselves. I suppose you actually like playing Candyland.” 

“I enjoy playing it with Trixie, but I’ll admit it’s not what I was expecting either.” She concedes. Though she really should have expected it at this point. After Cynthia Nyugen’s visit, several other neighbors dropped by to welcome them to the neighborhood, all with baked goods and/or small children in tow. It was sort of surreal, actually. Chloe didn’t think anyone even did that anymore. It was like something out of a 1950s sitcom, only instead of sugary jello molds they were bringing gluten-free cupcakes, kale muffins, and homemade granola. Lucifer had immediately tossed the kale muffins into the trash (“who would do such a despicable thing to a poor, innocent muffin?”), and it was all Chloe could do to keep him from setting the whole thing on fire.

Several of the women who had dropped by had insisted that Lucifer and Chloe, or Robert and Barbara Jones, join them for Saturday’s neighborhood luau - without a single trace of irony - or any number of wholesome community events. More than a few of them seemed taken by Lucifer’s charms, which at this point was no longer surprising to her. 

But now here they are at Cynthia and Derek’s, joined by Richard Isaacson (also apparently in finance) and his very young, very blond wife, who everyone seriously calls Bunny even though her real name seems to be Elizabeth. She’s definitely in the category of women who are charmed by Lucifer, but she seems equally aware of the prenuptial agreement that likely hangs over her head. Both women are excited to hear about Chloe’s ridiculous side business, and Lucifer manages to do a pretty decent job discussing his fictional consulting start up with their husbands. They’re all seated snugly around the coffee table, glasses of wine in hand, deciding which board game to play on a Friday night. How did this become her life?

“I think we should play the Newlywed Game tonight, that way we can get to know our new neighbors a little better!” Cynthia suggests, and of course her husband agrees. Richard and Bunny also seem to like the suggestion, so all eyes turn toward Chloe and Lucifer. Chloe just nods along, not overly concerned with what they play, as long as everyone is talking.

“How about you, Bob-o? You in?” Richard nudges Lucifer for an answer. Chloe can see him cringing at the nickname, but he responds with a forced smile and a “Sure thing, _Dick_ ,” and they quickly shuffle around, putting the husbands on one side of the table and their wives on the other.

As Derek explains the rules, she begins to realize her mistake. The whole purpose of the game is to test the knowledge of your spouse - something Lucifer is decidedly not. She has no idea how to play this game. Should she answer the questions as Barbara, or as herself? She’s not really sure she knows Lucifer well enough to answer as Chloe, but it’s not like she knows much of anything about Robert Jones. They have a pretty basic cover story, with job titles and a wedding anniversary and little else - it’s not like they’re trying to infiltrate the mob here. They probably should have discussed some of the particulars in case they were asked, but instead they’ve been kept busy all day with so many surprise visits from their new neighbors. They didn’t even have time to leave the house, let alone search for a potential crime scene. 

But it’s too late to turn back now. They’re already being handed answer cards, and Richard is reading off the first ‘Memory’ question for the ladies. It’s seemingly a simple enough question, ‘When did you first meet him?’. 

Robert and Barbara have a wedding date, but no other detailed anniversaries. Chloe figures her best bet is to go with the real answer, and just hope that Lucifer does the same. She doesn’t want to mess things up this early in the game if they don’t have to. It’s a relief that at least the question wasn’t ‘How did you first meet him?’, which would have been much harder to explain.

For once, Lucifer seems to be on the same wavelength as her, and when the moment of truth comes, their cards somehow manage to match up. Richard and Bunny’s don’t, leading to a brief spat over Richard’s previous wife. Chloe can’t help but note the overlapping dates between Richard and Bunny’s first meeting (the actual answer to the question) and his marriage to the former Mrs. Isaacson. Derek is quick to interrupt their bickering with the next ‘Personality’ question - ‘Who would your partner say wins most of your arguments?’- cringing a little at the poor timing.

Bunny immediately begins scribbling her answer down with a huff, while Richard looks somewhat penitent as he writes. 

Chloe’s still just trying to figure out what to write down on her own card. She would like to think she wins most of their arguments - even though Lucifer somehow still manages to get his way more often than not. But the question is what will he put? She mentally weighs his professed love of honestly against his oversized ego.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, both seem to win out. Lucifer does answer that she tends to win their arguments, matching up with her own answer, but he has added a little note that says “only because I let her”, which is a total lie. Well, almost a total lie. Lucifer does tend to give in a lot more easily these days. She tries not to think too hard about why. 

This time it’s Derek and Cynthia’s answers that don’t match, with both of them insisting they tend to win arguments. Richard, somewhat chastened by forgetting the details of his first meeting with Bunny, has put down ‘she wins’, which obviously matches Bunny’s answer. It seems this is enough for him to be forgiven, and Bunny jumps forward to give him a noisy kiss across the coffee table. 

“Moving on,” Derek hints towards the affectionate couple, “the next question is in the ‘Sensuality’ category.” Cue giggles from the other two couples, a wolfish grin from Lucifer, and a pained groan from Chloe. “Who would your partner say is the most adventurous in the bedroom?” 

Another easy one, for them at least. Lucifer’s the very embodiment of ‘adventurous’, while the most action she’s seen since separating from Dan has been unintentionally walking in on Lucifer naked. And wasn’t that just depressing? Not Lucifer being naked, of course - even she could admit the man was sex on legs - but that that was as far as it had gone. Her thoughts drift back to that evening without her quite meaning to, suddenly feeling the need to pull her hair back from her overheated skin. She hadn’t really regretted her decision to walk away at the time, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t occasionally think about how things might have turned out differently that night if she had just let herself take what was offered. Usually in these (unintentional, very bad) fantasies she somehow winds up spread out on his piano like that scene in Pretty Woman, while somehow ignoring any potential consequences of a one night stand with her capricious partner. 

Lucifer, however, seems far less bothered by the question. He proudly holds up his card reading “ME”, shooting a lascivious wink towards her, which Chloe would have ignored but Barbara Jones meets with a shy smile and raised card reading “HIM”. Richard and Bunny are still in sync as well, and it’s no surprise that Bunny’s the more adventurous of the two considering the age difference. Derek and Cynthia get it wrong again, both claiming the title for themselves. 

The ridiculous ‘Potpurri’ category brings them an asinine question about bedtimes that everyone sort of vaguely gets wrong, but Derek and Cynthia’s answers are the closest so they’re given a point. This at least seems to signal the end of the first set of questions. 

“Well it looks like our new neighbors are winning the first round. I guess you two have the advantage of actually being newlyweds!” Cynthia chirps in after reading out the scores. Chloe almost laughs at just how newly ‘wed’ they really are. But so far things are going well. They haven’t blow their cover, and they’re getting a feel for their new neighbors. Not that a little harmless matrimonial discord is a very useful clue in a murder investigation, but they’re willing to let their guards down around their new neighbors, which is what she were hoping for. 

Bunny takes immediate charge of the gentleman’s question round. “Alright, ‘Memory’ - what is her favorite album?".

Chloe realizes this question is a little trickier - it’s not like this was part of their identity details or something Lucifer could possibly know about her. Should she just use the true answer? It was a little embarrassing, of course, but she could always play it off like it was ‘Barbara’s’ answer at least. She’s really starting to suspect Lucifer has some heretofore unrevealed talent for mind-reading when he holds up his card reading ‘Breakfast Club soundtrack’. 

“How di…” She stops herself in the middle of asking the question in front of everyone - obviously her ‘husband’ would know her favorite album. But Lucifer seems to understand what she’s asking all the same. 

He gestures brightly towards her, “My wife, ladies and gentlemen,” and pauses for dramatic effect. “We’re in the car one day and that ghastly Simple Minds song comes on the radio - I dare to try and change it, and I swear I nearly lost my hand she slapped it away so hard! I learned never to try and come between my little Pookie bear and her love of John Hughes.”

The story is surprisingly true, if a little exaggerated - she barely even touched him and she’s certainly not in love with John Hughes (John Bender, on the other hand…). Though she can’t believe he even remembers that, or that he figured out her favorite album just from that single interaction. But Lucifer’s always had a talent for reading her just a little too well, even if she always pretends to have no idea what he’s talking about. Sometimes it feels like Lucifer understands more of her from just their short time together than Dan had after 6 years of marriage, but then just as often he’ll seem completely oblivious to her feelings. Those times are becoming less frequent as of late, however, and it’s taking more and more effort to maintain her carefully built walls when she’s around him.

Bunny interrupts her musings with the next ‘Personality’ question. “Who would your partner say irritates the other the most?” Chloe realizes she needs to get her head back into the game.

Another proudly raised “ME” from Lucifer, and a laughing “HIM” from Chloe. Another misstep for Cynthia and Derek, but they seem to laugh it off as they have both put themselves as the answer. Richard has carefully put himself as well, and Bunny readily agrees. Nothing very surprising with that round.

“Ooo, ‘Sensuality’ question - how does your partner let you know when she’s in the mood?” Bunny asks saucily, pretending to fan herself with a sharply manicured hand. 

And Chloe is a grown woman, she’s been married, she’s mothered a child, and she is far too old to blush at a simple question like this. But apparently Barbara Jones still does. She quickly scribbles down some bullshit answer about openness and honesty and prays that Lucifer doesn’t come up with something too embarrassing.

In the end, it can’t be any worse than the other answers. Derek reveals that Cynthia always puts on Marvin Gaye and drinks too much wine whenever she gets in the mood, and Richard doesn’t hesitate to tell the group that Bunny will greet him at the door in sexy lingerie. Cynthia is hiding her face in her hands throughout the round, while Bunny looks as cool and confident as ever. 

Lucifer’s answer is…unexpected. His sheet simply reads ’She gets cranky’, which is a completely stupid answer, and she’s about to protest this assumption but he begins elaborating. “She’s still a little shy about the whole thing, poor darling, so she tries to cover it up by snapping at me.” She’s about to yell at him now if he doesn’t shut his mouth, but he keeps going. “But I can always tell - she’ll start twirling her hair or touching her neck whenever that’s what’s really on her mind.”

Chloe’s hands immediately drop from away from her neck, she wasn’t…she really isn’t…it’s just that Lucifer is embarrassing her and it’s really warm in here. But the way Lucifer’s looking at her right now it feels like he can see right through her, that he’s seen every dirty thought she’s ever had about him. Particularly all the ones she’s had since they started playing this ridiculous game. She tries to join in with the group’s well-meaning laughter, but it comes out forced.

Chloe retreats further into the character Barbara Jones to deal with the constant prodding into their marriage and their sex lives (or lack thereof), but the answers she gives are all very obviously about Lucifer, and they’re both aware of it. The real question is how much of what he reveals is really him, and how much is his character?

Chloe becomes especially curious when couples are asked how many children the husband would say he wanted. Richard already had two kids from his previous marriage, which he and Bunny both agreed were enough. Cynthia and Derek wanted at least two as well, if not more. Chloe just wrote down one, partly thinking of their cover but mostly thinking of Trixie. Strangely, so did Lucifer. 

"Really, just one?" Derek asks with no small amount of disbelief. 

"I have a lot of siblings, and I do meant a _lot_ , and I certainly wasn't my dear old Dad's favorite.” Lucifer begins explaining, “to be fair, I was quite the little hellion." He grins at his own joke, and Chloe can't stop the smile that sneaks up on her as well. "So I think I'd rather have just the one, personally."

As far as Chloe knows, Robert Jones doesn’t have any siblings. Lucifer Morningstar does. And a whole bag of daddy issues to boot. Does that mean he actually wants a kid? He had told her when they first met that he never understood the point of them, but he doesn’t seem to mind Trixie very much anymore. Was he reconsidering? Or simply acknowledging their cover story of wanting to start a family as well as Chloe’s existing one? And did it even make a difference? Chloe tries to pretend it doesn’t mean anything, and focus back in on the conversation around her. 

"I'd have a whole soccer team if I could. We've been trying for a while but we're still hopeful. It's why we moved here. I mean what better place to raise a family?" Cynthia reveals. 

"So it's all families here then?” Chloe shifts back into detective mode.

"Well, there was one single woman, an environmental lawyer or something or another about saving the earth. But she up and left a few months ago. I think you actually have her house now." The other woman offers this information in a manner that doesn’t seem to indicate she’s aware of the murder. 

"She was just by herself?" 

"By choice, she insisted.” Cynthia’s tone seems to indicate that she doesn’t believe anyone would ever be single by choice, “oh but she did want kids though. She was trying to adopt one from Africa or something. It was all very noble. She moved here so she'd look better to the agency or whatever. But I guess our little community wasn't really for her, she was only here a few weeks." 

“You two weren’t close, then? Even living right next door?” Chloe presses, hoping for something more. 

“I don’t think we ever spoke more than a couple times in passing. Of course I welcomed her when she first moved in, but we didn’t see much of her after that. She was always off working at crazy hours. I don’t know why, it’s not like she didn’t have money enough from her family.” 

This part Chloe already knows about. The Patels were quite wealthy, and wielded a lot of influence in the city. Enough to convince a police chief to cook up this ‘discrete’ investigation. But apparently Vidya liked her job, and wanted to save the world. Too bad she’d never get the chance to now.

* * *

“So what’s the theory? You think they killed our girl because she didn’t quite fit in?” Lucifer whispers as soon as the others are no longer listening. Cynthia and Derek have gone off to the kitchen to uncork a few more bottles of wine, while Richard and Bunny have discovered a whole new topic to argue about (the future of her ‘modeling’ career, apparently). Chloe moves closer to Lucifer, not wanting to risk them being overhead. 

“It doesn’t really seem likely. I mean, they could have just slammed her with a bunch of HOA fines or something if they wanted her out. I don’t think they’d bludgeon a woman to death just because she didn’t want to come to game night.” 

“I would happily accepting bludgeoning over inane board games.” Lucifer insists. 

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself just fine. And we’re actually winning, I think” Chloe’s not entirely sure how they managed it, though the other two couples appear woefully bad at the game. It doesn’t have to mean anything. 

“I enjoy any opportunity to be the cause of that delightful little blush you keep trying to hide. But I’d prefer to do so without the audience next time, and perhaps without the scorecard. Though I suppose we could always…” 

Chloe practically leaps back into her seat, thankfully just in time for Cynthia and Derek to come back in with the wine. 

“Alright, who’s ready for another round?” Cynthia enthuses. 

Chloe’s not sure if she means another round of wine or the Newlywed Game, but she’s going to need a lot more of the former if she’s going to get through the latter.

* * *

“Ok, final tallies everyone, so out of a total of 50 points possible, Rich and Bunny scored a 27, Derek and I have 32 points, and our newlyweds have won with game with 39 points! Congratulations you two!” 

Cynthia seems honestly excited for them, but Chloe still can’t quite believe they actually won. Lucifer somehow managed to even get all the bonus round points by naming her bridesmaids - for a wedding that never even happened! Chloe supposes it made some kind of sense that they’d both just list all of the women they knew in common, which amounted to Ella, Maze, and Linda, but Richard could barely name one bridesmaid for his actual wife! Chloe tries to console herself that the scores simply reflected the deep gap between the other couples rather than some kind of real connection between her and Lucifer.

“Now you have to kiss!” Bunny exclaims.

“What??” Chloe chokes out. 

“I think you’re actually supposed to kiss for every right answer, but we’ve been ignoring that rule since the coffee table was in the way.” Derek explains. “But you two won, so…” 

“So now you have to kiss!” Bunny finishes for him.

“Um…” Chloe looks over at Lucifer, who seems to be thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

“Now now, don’t tease her, I told you she was shy.” He sits back with his cheshire grin, entirely amused with the situation but apparently willing to spare her the awkwardness. She had half expected him to take advantage of the opportunity, but surprisingly he’s decided to be a gentleman, even if he’s also decided he’s going to be a smug bastard about the whole thing. Which is why she finds herself leaning over to press a quick kiss against his unsuspecting lips, delighting in the way his cocky grin fades as she pulls back.

“Come on, that was barely a kiss!” Someone, probably Bunny, complains. But Chloe’s attention is focused entirely on Lucifer, and the sudden hopeful look that spreads across his face. It’s moments like these where she can no longer remember why she ever thought this might be a bad idea. With renewed courage she leans back in to meet his lips once again, in a kiss that’s just as soft and yet somehow so much _more_ than its predecessor, because this time Lucifer is able to kiss her back. Their lips move chastely against one another, but it’s enough to send little frissons of pleasure all down her spine, making her toes curl up in delight.

She had always expected that if she ever actually let Lucifer kiss her, that it would be completely explosive. The kind of frenzied passion that comes from so many months of built up tension. She had honestly expected him to _devour_ her the first chance he got. But here he was, kissing her so carefully, as though she might accidentally fracture into a million pieces and just float away. And she is beginning to feel as though she might actually do so. Their kiss is no less passionate for all its gentleness, managing to convey a depth of feeling she had never truly expected from the man before her. It is almost too much, and Chloe finds herself pulling back much sooner than she really wants to. 

Lucifer still looks a little dazed as she pulls away, putting some much needed distance between them, and she imagines she looks much the same. Bunny is cheering loudly for them, and everyone else is wearing fond smiles for the happy couple. And just like that its suddenly more than she can bear. 

Of course she makes all the usual excuses and thanks their hosts for a lovely evening, but inside her head is still swimming. Right now she really just wants to go home, even if it’s just to the fake home she shares with the man who’s currently turning her head into such a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting towards that M rating. This chapter also goes out to Rainey657 for her suggestion to have Chloe and Lucifer play cheesy board games - I hope this satisfies.


	4. The Luau

“Mommy!”

Chloe suddenly finds herself with an armful of Trixie, who has just launched herself through the doorway from behind her ex-husband. This was not what she had expected when she opened the door, though she can’t say she’s entirely unhappy about the turn of events.

Moments earlier, she and Lucifer had been sharing an awkwardly silent breakfast (mostly on her part), while she desperately tried to pretend their kiss from last night had never happened. She had stayed in her room as long as possible that morning, pretending to sleep in - and in truth she had needed to - but eventually her empty stomach convinced her she’d have to go downstairs and face him. She found him in the kitchen just as she had yesterday, shirtless and making breakfast. Well, reheating breakfast, as she had certainly taken her time with getting up and dressed. Thankfully, Lucifer doesn’t bring up her actions from the previous evening, though he wears a knowing smile as he watches her silently eat her french toast. Chloe considers whether or not this weird silence is better or worse than just talking about it. She’s saved from deciding when the doorbell rings. She is honestly relieved by the interruption, even though she fully expects to find another of their new neighbors pestering them about the luau that evening. Instead she finds Dan at her doorstep, with Trixie racing into her arms. She swoops the girl up up into a hug and shooting a questioning look toward her ex-husband from over Trixie’s head.

“Trixie said she was missing you, so I promised I’d bring her by.” He shrugs off the answer, while Chloe turns her attention back to her daughter, squeezing her more tightly for a moment before setting her back down.

“Monkey, you know I’m happy to see you but I’ve barely been gone for a day?”

“I know, but I still missed you.” Chloe can’t help but smile at the response. “And Dad said your house had a pool!”

Ah, apparently the truth comes out.

“Trixie, that’s not…” allowed? A very good idea? Even their pool to use? But there’s no explaining any of that to an excited little girl. “We don’t even have a swimsuit for you here.”

“That’s alright, I came prepared!” Trixie tugs up her t-shirt to reveal her Finding Dory swimsuit beneath. And as if that fully decides things, she rushes off in search of the fabled pool.

“You know I’m going to have to explain this to the neighbors, right?” Chloe levels a glare at Dan, who should really have known better than to discuss the case or this house with Trixie. Now their busybody neighbors are going to ask why there is a small child splashing around in their pool, or about the random guy showing up at the doorstep during breakfast. “I guess I can say you’re Lucifer’s brother or something.”

Dan looks mortally offended at the suggestion. She rolls her eyes at his response.

“Would you rather I say you were _my_  brother? Besides, you look more like you could be related to Lucifer.”

Lucifer chooses that precise moment to join them in the foyer, still shirtless because of course he is. She can hear Dan’s mumbled “you’ve got to be kidding me…” from the doorway, but her attention is entirely focused on the other man’s entrance. He apparently chooses to ignore Dan’s comment completely in favor of being offended at her own, “You take that back!”

Chloe suddenly realizes that she basically just said that Lucifer and Dan looked alike, which, ok, kind of weird. And not really true, other than the whole dark hair, dark eyes thing. The two men were very, very different. Kind of like night and day, really - the trouble is, Chloe’s not exactly sure which was which.

“Ok, fine, brother-in-law. How’s that?” She concedes.

“I suppose that makes Trixie my niece then?” Surprisingly, Lucifer seems unbothered by this new relation. Chloe tries not to read too much into his response. It’s not like he was actually related to Trixie, even tenuously.

“Speaking of which, could I get you to watch her for few minutes while I talk to Dan?” The house has grown too quiet, which likely means Trixie has already made it to the backyard.

“Oh I’d much rather watch this.” He grins with far too many teeth.

“Lucifer, please? Just make sure my daughter doesn’t drown. Or slip on the edge and crack her skull - oh god, I should…”

But Lucifer is quick to reassure her, taking her gently by the shoulders to halt her worried rambling. “Have no fear, Detective, I’ll watch over your offspring. She’ll be safe as houses. Or safe as pools, I suppose.” He smiles at his nonsensical joke, and walks back to where Trixie has disappeared. Having Lucifer babysit is not something she would have ever even imagined asking before, but somehow she knows she can trust him to keep her safe. Dan doesn’t look quite as convinced - in fact he’s looked pretty pissed ever since Lucifer walked in, even though Dan is the one who’s responsible for this whole situation. She should be the one who’s annoyed, and she is.

“So, what? You really just decided to drive all the way out here just so Trixie could go for a swim? And how’d you even get past the gates?”

“The developer let me in, I just called her when you weren’t listed in the access directory. And I actually came to bring you this,” he pushes the bag toward her, a little more roughly than he intended, “the Lieutenant mentioned something about a luau? I thought you might need these or something. I didn’t exactly expect to walk in on whatever this is.”

Chloe ignores that last comment, quickly rifling through the bag and finding her own swimsuit in there. It’s her turn to be offended. “You went through my stuff?”

“No no, that was all Trixie’s doing. I just borrowed some things for Lucifer and drove it over.” He looks like he wants to say something else.

“Ok, well, thanks. I guess. I could have just come to pick it up though, we’re not trapped here or anything. I mean…”

Dan finally snaps, “Just what the hell is going on here, Chloe? You’re supposed to be over here working on a case and instead you’re apparently playing house with your half-naked partner?”

“We _are_  working the case, Lucifer was just making breakfast for us.”

“At 11 am?”

“We had a late night.”

“You can’t be serious…”

“Working on the case! Our next-door neighbors invited us over and we took the chance to ask them some questions about our victim.”

“Well did you find out anything at least?”

“Not really, apparently they didn’t talk to her much.”

“So you just decided to stay out all night anyway?”

“It’s not as if we have any better leads right now. And anyway it’s none of your business.”

“This case or you messing around with that bastard?”

“Neither!”

“I think I’m allowed to be concerned when my wife…”

“Ex-wife,” She reminds him, which seems to take the wind right out his sails.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt here, Chloe.”

“Not really any risk of that, I’m pretty sure I can handle a suburban murder case.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Can you really trust him, Chloe?”

“Yes, I can. I do.” The minute she says it, she realizes it’s the truth. She does trust Lucifer. Even with her daughter's safety. Possibly even with more than that. There’s still a lot of things that stand in the way of anything happening between them - their partnership, his secrets, her hangups, etc. - but Lucifer hurting her intentionally was never one of her concerns.

Deciding this conversation needed to be over about five minutes ago, Chloe turns on her heel and heads back to find Lucifer and Trixie, not waiting to see if Dan will follow. He does, however.

And of course the sight that greets them when they reach the backyard is Lucifer tossing Trixie into the pool. But her squeals are happy ones, and she immediately rushes out so Lucifer can throw her in again. He swings her in a third time before he notices the detectives standing there.

“Oh there you are, come to check on me I suppose? Well as you can see your daughter is still in one piece.” He waves his hand out towards Trixie, who’s now doing handstands in the shallow end. “Who knew child-rearing was so simple? I just have to toss her around and she’s delighted!”

“Yeah, well it take a little more than that to raise a kid.” Dan retorts, arms crossed and chest practically puffed out. Chloe just laughs, both at Dan’s ridiculous posturing and at how Lucifer doesn’t even seem to mind that he’s getting soaked from Trixie’s cannonballing. Her partner is surprisingly at ease with her daughter, in a way Chloe hadn’t ever expected. And it’s kind of nice watching him play around with Trixie, with barely a trace of his previous awkwardness around kids.

Dan actually manages to behave himself for the rest of their visit, and only argues once when Trixie invents a new and more dangerous game for Lucifer to play with her (involving her leaping from his shoulders). And maybe a little bit more when “Uncle Lucifer” becomes an actual thing, and Trixie refuses to call him anything else. But overall it’s strangely nice, this whole suburban family thing. Even if it isn’t real.

* * *

A few short hours later they’re getting ready for the luau. All of the neighbors have assured them they shouldn’t feel pressured to bring anything, but Chloe decides to throw together some fruit kebabs so they don’t seem rude. She’s already dressed, in the bright blue swimsuit and floral sarong Trixie had chosen for her, the fabric tied halter style around her neck to get a little more coverage out of it. Both the swimsuit and the sarong are at least as old as Trixie herself - Chloe can’t remember the last time she wore either - and she’s thankful they still fit, even if she still feels fairly exposed by the sheerness of the fabric. She’s just putting some clingwrap over the fruit when she hears Lucifer coming down the stairs. When he enters the kitchen, she can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at the sight of his outfit. Lucifer, however, looks entirely unamused.

“This is just…petty,” he suddenly announces, cutting through her laughter. “I know your ex is upset that we’re married now…”

“Fake married.” Chloe interjects, reminding him of this fact though there’s no real heat in it. Mostly because she’s still cracking up.

“Married, fake married, sexy undercover partners, whatever. That’s no excuse for making me wear…this.”

And this time it really is just as bad as Lucifer’s complaining. Not only has he been forced into the most garish Hawaiian print shirt Chloe’s ever seen, but Dan’s apparently also given him cargo shorts and ‘mandals’ to wear with it. And while it’s physically impossible for Lucifer to actually look _bad_ , this is cutting it pretty close. If this were real life she might almost be embarrassed to be seen with him like this. The thought of anyone else from their lives seeing him brings another wave of giggles.

“Are you _quite_  done, Detective?”

It’s a good 10 minutes before she can finally stop laughing.

* * *

Apparently his laughable outfit is not enough to deter most of the women, and some of the men, at the party from flirting with her ‘husband’. It begins almost immediately with their hostess’s offer to get Lucifer ‘lei-d’, as she throws a floral garland around his neck with a sly wink. It clashes horribly with his shirt, and he’s quick to offer it to Chloe, remarking that he’d prefer to ‘lei’ her. It’s sadly just the beginning of the terrible lei puns, most of them coming from Lucifer himself. According to the community schedule, there was a luau practically every month - how were they not sick of this joke already? But it seems like everyone was using it as an excuse to flirt with one another, in particular with her fake husband. And yes Lucifer is charming and still pretty attractive even in that terrible shirt, but all of these women are married. Do they have no shame?

Strangely, Lucifer doesn’t seem to eat up the attention like he normally does. The Williams backyard is full of attractive people in various states of thematic dress (or undress, despite the presence of children at the party), but he remains committed to his role and reserves most of his flirting for her. And since this is actually part of his job description right now, she doesn’t try and stop him. Even with the terrible puns. Secretly she’s sort of enjoying the attention. She’s even getting used to the constant presence of Lucifer’s arm around her shoulders and waist as they introduce themselves to the other Palisades residents.

Maxine and Sharon Bosworth—Hernandez seem to be among the few who are immune to Lucifer’s charm, and are, coincidentally, Chloe’s new favorite neighbors.

“So a marriage counselor and a divorce attorney - those are certainly two…very opposite jobs.” Chloe marvels at the pair, also thus far the only women with full-time jobs that she’s met.

“Not as different as you might think. I end up having the same exact therapy sessions with all my clients, I just get to charge more.” Sharon teases her wife good-naturedly. “But Maxine can tell from the moment she meets them whether a couple can make it work, or whether they’re completely miserable together, it’s like a superpower.”

Chloe freezes for a brief moment of panic, before realizing that Sharon is clearly just praising Maxine’s observational skills, not implying they already know Chloe and Lucifer are faking it or anything. But they’re going to have to be more careful here.

“ _Really_?” Lucifer grins, and oh this can not be good. “What can you tell about us?”

Chloe really wishes she could hit Lucifer right now, but she settles for gripping his hand tightly enough to let him know she is not amused.

“Oh you two are definitely going to work out - though I’ll admit I’ve been observing you both for a little while. A lot of our neighbors here haven’t been particularly subtle with their flirting, but you two only have eyes for each other. The chemistry is obviously there, and more than that you seem to deal with potential conflict very well.”

Chloe nearly scoffs at Maxine’s analysis of their relationship, but she reminds herself why they’re here and why it’s very much a good thing if everyone else is convinced of their relationship. Lucifer just looks like the cat that caught the canary, clearly pleased that someone else thinks they’re compatible. If only Maxine knew the truth. But maybe her ‘powers’ might come in handy.

“So then you can also tell who here might not be so happy together?” Chloe suggests.

“You don’t need Maxine’s powers for that,” Sharon argues, “half the couples here are miserable. Our hosts are, obviously - hence Mercedes throwing herself at your husband. I’m pretty sure they’re both having multiple affairs, and neither is bothering to hide it from the other at this point.” She points over at several other couples, “the Lamonts over there are just staying together until their daughter moves out. Richard and Bunny, I mean come on, she’s practically his kids’ age. And our houses aren’t so far apart that we can’t hear Cliff and Peggy Davis yelling at each other every night, though they certainly play the happy couple in public…”

“As you can see, Sharon’s not very optimistic about other people’s marriages.” Maxine gently intercedes, taking her wife’s hand.

“You wouldn’t be either if you saw what I deal with every day.”

“But I _do_ , sweetie. And we don’t want to scare our new neighbors into thinking they moved onto Wisteria Lane, now do we?” Maxine gently reminds her wife, before turning back to smile at Chloe and Lucifer. “This is actually a very nice neighborhood, and clearly things are never boring here.”

“I’m sure all neighborhoods have their little quirks, and we can certainly appreciate a little harmless gossip, can’t we, darling?” Lucifer slips his arm back around Chloe’s shoulders as he speaks. “Though someone else mentioned something about a woman moving out of here after only a few months? Perhaps things were a little too interesting here for her.” Chloe spares a look of gratitude for this rare moment of near subtlety.

“The Patel girl? Not really any good gossip there, she barely interacted with anyone else in the neighborhood. She only ever even talked to us once, and just about our sons. She thought they were adopted - I think she was looking to adopt herself - but we had a donor.” Sharon reveals, though it’s not much more than what they heard from Cynthia.

“I’m guessing you two are going to be trying for a family of your own pretty soon,” Maxine casually hints. Chloe wishes this was the first time the subject had come up today, but thankfully they’re saved from delving back into the subject by little Toby Bosworth—Hernandez, who has scraped his knee running around the pool. His moms are quick to rush over to him, Maxine coddling the boy while Sharon grabs a bandaid from her purse. Chloe feels a brief tug of jealousy at how well the two of them work together. With Dan she had often felt like a single parent even before they separated.

Lucifer pulls her back from her thoughts. “It seems all of our neighbors are deeply invested in our procreating. And while I’m afraid that might actually result in the anti-Christ, I’m certainly willing to take the risk.” He’s grinning like an idiot when she looks back over at him, obviously teasing her.

Eventually they wind up getting separated, and Chloe is stuck talking to Cliff Davis. The man is completely unbearable. He seems to think that just because he’s wealthy and moderately attractive that he can talk a person’s ear off about stock portfolios and real estate investments and no one will complain. To be fair, she doesn’t, but only so she doesn’t appear rude. She’s trying to catch Lucifer’s eye (or anyone’s really), looking for an escape route when Cliff’s hand is suddenly on her bare arm.

“Maybe you could come over sometime so we can discuss this a little further. I keep a private office at my house since so many of the residents here are wanting to invest with me. Or maybe I could just meet you over at #47…”

Chloe Decker would have wrenched this man’s hands off of her, delivering a scathing retort with equal force that would have sent him off with his tail between his legs. Barbara Jones, however, would do no such thing.

“You’ll have to talk to my husband about that, he handles most of our finances.” She says a little too loudly, finally catching Lucifer’s attention. He’s practically teleports to her side, reaching out to greet the other man with an overly firm handshake that leaves Cliff wincing. Clearly having won their little power-play, he makes their excuses and escorts Chloe as far away from him as possible.

* * *

They don’t stay too much longer after that. Chloe tries to bring up the subject of Vidya Patel’s sudden disappearance a few more times, but apparently the woman was a bit of a reclusive workaholic. No one seems to know much about her, though everyone agrees that she seemed nice. Lucifer doesn’t seem to fare any better - even his weird hypnosis thing doesn’t reveal anything more than a bunch of kinky sex fantasies.

“I never thought I’d say this, but is nothing sacred here? I’m all for free love of course but then why all this pretense of marriage and commitment?” He actually seems surprisingly appalled at their neighbors’ behavior.

“Really? I figured you’d be kind of pro-adultery.” She jokes back.

“Well not when it’s some other man hitting on _my_  wife.” Lucifer protests.

“Again, not really your wife.” She reminds him for what has to be at least the 10th time today.

“Yes, but he doesn’t know that. That slimeball thinks he can put his filthy hands all over what’s mine…”

“But I suppose it’s totally ok when all those housewives are throwing themselves at you instead?” She retorts, praying she doesn’t sound jealous. She’s not, not really. It’s not like Lucifer was even flirting back. But she is still curious. “You’re honestly telling me you’ve never slept with a married woman?”

“I wasn’t the one breaking any vows.” He answers sharply, though it doesn’t seem to be directed towards her.

“Ok, so then you’ve never cheated on anyone?”

“No one I have ever been with has had any reason to expect my fidelity, nor I their’s. But I keep my promises, Detective.” This answer definitely is directed at her, and this whole conversation suddenly seems a lot heavier. Right up until the moment Lucifer ruins it, “not like all of these…swingers!”

Chloe can’t help but laugh at the outdated term, and the image of shag carpeting and key parties that it brings to mind.

“Come on, let’s get home before the desperate housewives come looking for you.”

Chloe barely notices that this is the first time she’s called it “home” to Lucifer.

* * *

It’s barely 9 pm by the time they reach the house, having left the party a little early when it was clear they weren’t going to find out anything substantial. With nothing new to report for the case, they call it a night on the investigation. But neither of them is really tired yet, so Lucifer suggests they take advantage of the pool table to play a game of 8 ball. Chloe willingly agrees, assured of an easy victory. She imagines Lucifer is probably pretty good but she knows she’s better.

As they’re getting set up in the game room, Chloe is reminded how surreal this whole situation still is.

“You know, I feel like I should apologize.”

“Whatever for?” Lucifer looks up questioningly from where he’s racking the balls.

“For cramping your style. I know you agreed to this whole charade but it’s Saturday night and you’re here playing pool with me when you could be partying at Lux or off with one of your admirers from the luau.” Chloe tries not too think too much about what he might have been doing instead tonight. _Who_  he might have been doing.

“There’s certainly no need to apologize for that, Detective, I’m perfectly content right where I am.” Chloe tries to hide the pleasure she feels at this answer, while Lucifer continues, “Maze can manage the club well enough in my stead, and I have no desire to spend more time than necessary with any of those vapid women, or their blustering husbands. Maxine and her wife were the only tolerable ones there.”

“You mean the only two women at the party who had absolutely no interest in you - or any man?” She teases, though she’s still reeling from the fact that he’d rather play silly games with her than spend his time with a sure thing.

“I’ll have you know my charms are above such pedestrian concerns as sexual orientation. And while their resistance is intriguing, I’m far more interested in whatever it is that’s holding you back.” He looks pointedly at her, eyes full of challenge.

“I’m not holding anything back.” She lies, far too easily if not very convincingly. “And I’ll prove it by kicking your ass at pool.”

“We’ll see about that, Detective.” He smirks, but he allows her to break, claiming ‘ladies first’.

Chloe thinks he may regret doing so when she pockets the 7 straight off. The 3 quickly follows.

“What do you say we make this game a little more interesting, Detective?” Lucifer whispers into ear, suddenly way too close to where she’s leaning over the table. She does her best to ignore him, carefully lining up her next shot.

“How so?” She asks, feigning disinterest but mildly curious as to what kind of wager he intends to make.

“Perhaps an article clothing for every successful shot?”

Chloe rolls her eyes at the suggestion. She really should have known better. “Not gonna happen. Besides, neither of us is even wearing that much.”

“How about for every two balls in a row?” Lucifer offers back, still far too close for comfort.

“As tempting as it is to get rid of that horrible shirt, I think I’m going to have to pass on that.” But over her shoulder Lucifer is still grinning, despite her refusal.

“If you wanted me to take off my shirt you only needed to ask.”

Despite his attempts at distraction she manages to nail her third shot as well, tapping her 4 into the corner pocket with a little help from his 15.

“Though it seems you’ve been granted your wish anyway.” He moves slightly back from her and immediately begins stripping off the shirt, tossing it away with an unnecessary amount of force.

“Whoa, hey, I never said I was actually going along with this game.” Her protests are half-hearted though, and she makes no move to stop him.

“It’s too late now, Detective, because I’m certainly not about to put that abomination back on.”

And she’s certainly not about to make him, either. Aside from the fact that the shirt really is an eyesore, part of her wants this to continue. Over the past few days Lucifer has been slowly chipping away at all her arguments for why they shouldn’t get involved - her kid, his promiscuity, wanting completely different things from life - proving himself time and again to match her in ways she never expected. So right now she’s allowing him to push her out of her comfort zone a little more, and maybe she can actually just let herself enjoy the moment.

But if Chloe thought the tacky shirt had been distracting, it’s nothing compared to the sight of his bare torso lounging across the table. She knows he’s purposely positioned himself in her line of sight, propping himself up against his cue in a way that manages to put both his toned muscles and appealing height on display. She’s totally conscious of the fact that he’s doing this to distract her, but that unfortunately doesn’t stop it from being a completely effective tactic. She misses her fourth shot.

“My turn.” He beams, clearly reveling in his powers of distraction.

He quickly sinks two balls of his own, and looks up at her with an expectant grin. She’s not entirely sure _what_  he’s expecting - another argument or for her to actually strip - but she gives him neither. She may have decided to play along with this little game, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to make it easy on him. She casually tosses her lei in his direction.

“Oi! That doesn’t count!”

“Sure it does, the rules are one article of clothing for two shots. I clearly removed one item.”

“Obviously we need to clarify the rules of this game - one _real_  item of clothing for every two shots, shoes and jewelry don’t count. The point of this game is to have one or both parties naked by the end of it.” He explains, as if she doesn’t understand the basic concept of strip pool.

“Really? And here I thought the point was me proving I could destroy you at pool?” She tosses back, enjoying the opportunity to frustrate the man further. With renewed determination he sinks his next shot quickly, and is already lining up his fourth.

Chloe decides to give him a taste of his own medicine, moving into his eye line and tugging at the tie of her sarong.

“Well I guess I might as well go ahead and take this off…” She teases.

Lucifer scratches.

There’s an actual mark across the felt from the force of Lucifer’s stroke, and it leaves Chloe feeling a little giddy at the obvious power she holds over him. She mimics his own usual smirking expression and goes to take her own turn.

She pockets the 6 before she realizes Lucifer has moved to stand behind her once again, leaning into her space. She can feel the heat of his skin against her bare back, even though he’s very carefully _not_  touching her. Instead he simply makes sure she’s fully aware of his presence.

“You seem awfully determined to get me out of my clothes, Detective.”

“Or maybe I’m just determined to win.”

And she won’t let him distract her, even if he is warm and smells good and will be removing his shorts if she sinks this one.

She does.

Chloe doesn’t know if she’s disappointed or relieved that Lucifer is wearing something under those awful cargo shorts. Having him in dark grey boxer briefs is a vast improvement over his luau outfit, but it’s also sort of wrecking her concentration. Another miss.

She realizes the set up for this game is faulty - the more you win the harder it is to play. It’s sort of like the opposite of beer pong, and the more balls she sinks the drunker she feels.

Lucifer’s concentration is completely unencumbered by his own state of undress, of course, and he easily pockets two in a row. He offers her another look of challenge - there’s no more loopholes this round, and he’s waiting to see if she’ll actually take off any of her clothing.

She tugs at the tie of her sarong for real this time, allowing the translucent fabric to pool at her feet. She’s still fully covered by her swimsuit, but she feels practically naked beneath Lucifer’s heated gaze. It’s not an entirely unpleasant sensation.

Neither of them loses any more clothing during their next turns, both of them far too focused on the other person’s presence to get more than one ball pocketed at a time. Lucifer even scratches once again when Chloe has to adjust the top of her bikini during his shot, somewhat accidentally on purpose.

But Chloe is up 6 to 5, and all that’s left is the 2 and the 8. The two is easy enough, but the 8 proves a little more complex. Not the shot itself, of course. The table is mostly clear and she actually is really good at this game. But getting the 8 ball means the end of the game. It also means two in a row, and Lucifer’s only wearing one more thing. And while she can manage a game of half-naked pool with her partner, she’s not entirely certain she can handle more. In any sense of the word.

Lucifer is smiling at her like he knows exactly what she’s thinking, and her whole body heats up in response. Part of her is annoyed with him for how well he set this whole thing up - no matter what, he wins the game. There’s no way out of this with her dignity fully intact.

Which really only leaves her with one option.

* * *

It’s an immediate relief to her overheated skin as she plunges into the cool water of the pool. She allows herself to linger for as long as possible beneath the water before the need for air drives her up toward the surface.

Where Lucifer is waiting for her.

“So this is the game we we’re playing now?” He quirks an eyebrow at her.

“It was too stuffy in there, and I got tired of playing. It’s no fun when your opponent doesn’t stand a chance of winning.”

“I think you will find that by running out here you have forfeited the match, which means that I win by default.”

“That’s definitely not how this works.”

But he continues on, “Let’s see, there were only 3 balls left on my end, so I would have won another item from you. But which to take - top or bottoms? Both certainly have their own appeal. It’s a real Sophie’s choice…”

“That’s _definitely_  not what that movie was about. And I’m not taking off either, so you can go ahead and stop trying to choose.”

“But then what do I get for winning the game?”

“Who says you’ve won?” She taunts him from the water. Refreshed by the water, she feels back in control of herself. “How about first one to the edge of the shallow end is the winner?”

“Well I suppose…”

“Ok, go!” She announces as she darts off, not even waiting for Lucifer to join her in the water first.

But her attempt at getting a head start was a mistake, which she realizes the second she hears Lucifer dive in right behind her. She apparently wasn’t far enough away and he can practically grab her feet the moment he hits the water. It doesn’t take long for him to catch up enough to grab her by the waist, dragging her back towards him right before she can reach the other end. He holds her tight with one arm while using his extended reach to tap the edge.

“I win again.” He grins down at where she still struggles in his grasp.

“You cheated!” She counters, finally breaking free of his arms.

“I think you’ll find that by the rules that you set yourself I have won fair and square.”

Chloe manages to talk him into a rematch, and then another, and two more after that, each time changing the rules. He manages to win all but one round, either through trickery or because he really is a stronger swimmer than she is. The only round she does win is one where they’re forced to swim across the pool with both legs together. Lucifer struggles with that method, having apparently never pretended to be a mermaid as a child. It seems he never watched Splash or the Little Mermaid when he was young. He laughs when she reveals this little tidbit about her childhood, and she finds herself laughing with him.

Eventually they take a break from racing, and lazily swim around the pool, never really touching but constantly aware of the other’s presence nearby.

“You know, I sort of thought this assignment was going to be a nightmare at first, but it’s not all so bad.” Chloe decides as she settles against the edge of the pool, Lucifer swimming over to do the same.

“Like having your very own backyard swimming pool?” He jokes.

“Well that’s definitely a perk, but I just meant having you here to back me up has made this whole thing much more…bearable.”

“Why thank you, Detective - I find you quite bearable as well.” He mocks her choice of works, and she splashes him in retaliation.

“You know what I mean. Thanks for being here, and backing me up in this. And for swimming laps with me when I know you could be enjoying yourself with one of with some other woman instead.” She’s suddenly aware of just how close they are, clinging to the edge of the pool like this. Close enough to see the way Lucifer’s eyes soften at her confession.

“You think I’d really choose going off with some bored housewife to some sleazy hotel room #47 when I could be here with LAPD’s finest detective, half-naked and soaking wet…”

His voices drops lower at that last part, as he slowly moves to close the distance between the two of them. But Chloe halts him before he can reach her.

“Wait, did you say #47?”

Lucifer is taken aback by the apparent non sequitur. “Claire Edwards mentioned it at the party, though she never offered the name of the hotel or anything. Not very bright, that one.”

“Lucifer, #47 isn’t a hotel room, it’s a house in this neighborhood. Probably one of the model homes at the end of the street. Cliff invited me there too.”

It’s all starting to come together for Chloe, but Lucifer is still stuck on that last part. His hostility towards the other man comes back full force at the mere mention of his name.

“Obviously that man was a pig, can’t even spring for a real hotel room…”

“Don’t you get it Lucifer? The neighbors are clearly all using these empty homes for their torrid affairs. Our victim was a single, very attractive woman, and if she was involved with anyone else here she might have been there too. And a love affair gone wrong is pretty good motive for murder.”

“But why not simply use her own house? She didn’t have any to hide her affairs from.”

“Except all the other neighbors - her house is right in the middle of of the street, where anyone could see her comings and goings. #47 is at towards the end of the development, back near the woods. Far easier to hide your indiscretions, or a dead body.”

Lucifer finally catches up with her theory. “I take it there will be some breaking and entering in our near future? First thing in the morning?”

But Chloe is already climbing out of the water, “I was thinking more like right now.”

“Well then allow me to slip into something a little more cat burglar, and a little less Magnum P.I.” He jokes, following her out of the water. Whatever moment they might have shared there is now lost, but at least they finally have something resembling a lead.

 


	5. Breaking & Entering

There are red silk sheets on the master bed. Seriously? 

“I think this counts as a mortal sin against good taste. And I’m fairly certain that your little UV light trick will have this bed lit up like a bloody Jackson Pollock, as if it weren’t bad enough already.” Lucifer states, rather unhelpfully, from where they’re currently shining a perfectly normal flashlight on the garish California King bed that’s taking up most of the master bedroom in #47. Either Angela Palmer really pissed off her decorator or someone out there actually thought bright red silk and dark woods were a good look in a room that was already heavily shadowed by the outlying forest. The whole room practically screamed ‘sleazy soap opera affair’.

“I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but thankfully we’re looking for blood here, not…any other bodily fluids. So we can skip the ALS.” 

“So we’re just looking for traces of blood on red sheets then?”

“You and I both know all too well the color wouldn’t match. But whatever killed our victim was flat and wooden, and everything in this room is pretty plush,” Chloe eyes the tufted suede headboard, “or too heavy for our killer to lift,” her eyes shift to the bulky mahogany ‘his’ and ‘hers’ nightstands.

“Perhaps someone slammed her head repeatedly on one of the furniture pieces. Or perhaps she did it to herself, after taking one look at this room.” He suggests with obvious distaste. 

“There’s signs of blows to other parts of her body that make it unlikely she was pushed, or even ’slammed’, into anything. Evidence suggests the killer bludgeoned her with something small enough to lift but heavy enough to inflict some serious damage. Or possibly two somethings, one small and one large based on the wound pattern.” 

“Perhaps two killers then? Maybe even one of our neighboring couples, looking to spice up their monotonous sex lives with a threesome gone horrifically wrong?” He grins over at her, as irreverent about grizzly murder scenes as always.   

But that particular scenario, minus Lucifer’s colorful descriptors, had actually crossed her mind after meeting some of their neighbors. “We haven’t eliminated the possibility of multiple assailants, but statistically it’s pretty unlikely. Three can keep a secret…” 

“If two of them are dead? You certainly know your Franklin aphorisms, kudos to you. But with one body…” 

“One killer is far more likely,” Chloe finishes. “So is a single murder weapon, with two distinct surfaces.”

“I don’t think there’s anything here like that, but it’s been quite some weeks since.” 

“Nearly 9, at this point. A lot could have changed. This may not even be the right place, but it’s the best we’ve got for now. So maybe we should check the other rooms?” 

Searching the house comes with a eerie sense of deja vu. All the homes at the Palisades have roughly the same layout, so searching #47 is a lot like their first night at their own house, looking through each of the rooms. Only their house wasn’t a possible murder scene at the time, and it had also been fully lit. Her flashlight and Lucifer’s cellphone do little to dispel the creepy vibes of this house. Knowing that it’s definitely the scene of multiple extramarital affairs doesn’t help either. Chloe is extra careful not to touch any flat surfaces, and is surprised to find Lucifer doing the same. She’s rarely seen him act squeamish, or even really bothered about the possibility of contaminating a crime scene. But lately he seems to be making more of an effort to play by the rules. Well, most of them, anyway.

It’s well past 2 am by the time they finish searching the house, and the only evidence they’ve found of anyone else’s presence here is two wine glasses left in the sink. Apparently a previous couple got a little sloppy. 

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything in here tonight, maybe we should just call it a night and I’ll have Ella come by tomorrow and see if we haven’t missed anything.” She tries to keep the disappointment from her voice, but basically they’re back to square one with the investigation. They’ve now wasted two full days.

Lucifer seems to pick up on her disappointment, and does his best to remain optimistic. “Perhaps we could check the other houses at this end of the street?” 

Chloe sighs, finally pushing through the backdoor and out into the night air. “Maybe, but I’m not sure there’s much point in it. This house was pretty ideally located, none of the other completed homes are this far back into the woods, and all the neighboring homes can see them.”

Lucifer considers this, looking around at the surrounding woods that keep this home so much more secluded than the rest, until his eyes land on something that gives him pause. “Detective, you said whatever killed Ms. Patel left both small and large flat wounds?”

“Yes…?” 

“Would a 2x4 fit the bill?” Chloe follows along his line of sight to where some errant building materials are piled beside the house, clearly awaiting new construction. Among the materials is a stack of wooden 2x4s.

“Lucifer - you’re brilliant,” she utters without even thinking, already making a beeline towards the pile. 

“I’m well aware of the fact - but far more importantly, I believe this is my sixth victory of the evening, and thus I think I should be entitled to…”

“Down boy. Let’s see if you’re even right first.” She interrupts, pulling out a small bottle of Luminol from her bag and carefully spraying it across the wood.

The top few pieces reveal nothing, but tucked into the stack is a slightly warped piece that lights up like a Christmas tree under the Luminol. She immediately snaps several photos to send to Ella and the rest of the team.

“I think we may have found a potential murder weapon.” She tries to tamp down on her excitement, but even Lucifer’s boastful grin isn’t enough to ruin her good mood. Small traces of blood lead from the back porch to the thick shrubbery around the AC system, likely where the body may have been hidden until it was disposed of.

They’ve managed to find the scene of the crime, a temporary body dump, and the smoking gun in one night. Now all that was left was to find their killer. All in all, not a bad end to their evening. 

* * *

Chloe remains awake for several hours after they return to the house, working to update the CSI team even though they wouldn’t be able to come by until tomorrow morning (apparently fresh crime scenes took precedence). And, if she’s being honest, her whole evening has been pretty…interesting. When she finishes messaging her department, she finds herself going over everything else that happened that night - the unexpected game of strip pool, the late night swim, their almost kiss. It’s a lot to take in. 

But she can’t find it in herself to regret any of her actions. Well, maybe she could have hit the brakes a little more gently when things got too heavy, at least that second time. It might not have even been so bad letting Lucifer kiss her again, this time without an audience egging them on. After all, he had already proved himself to be very _very_ good at it. Though that was also sort of the problem. She’s not entirely certain she could have stopped things from going further if she had let him kiss her. 

Chloe realizes that Lucifer’s gone way beyond just getting under her skin, now working his way past all her carefully crafted defenses, and cutting through all her excuses. He’s proved himself loyal time and time again, but in their short time here he’s also proved himself more reliable, more…committed to their weird partnership. She never thought he’d be able to endure so many quiet nights in, with so little in the way of his previous amusements, but so far he’s been surprisingly content to hang around the house and cook delicious meals for the two of them. He’s still not overly keen on doing any of the paperwork, but he has been helpful with the case, and endlessly patient with her. And with Trixie’s visit, as well. She remembers Lucifer laughing and smiling along with her daughter, devoting his entire morning to her made up games without a single complaint, despite his previous reservations about children. In fact he honestly seemed to enjoy her company. And Trixie of course adores the man, and has ever since their first meeting. It’s Chloe that’s taken the longest to warm up to him.

But she definitely is, and she has no idea where this is all heading, but she’s willing to maybe see where it goes. Though she has no idea quite where to start with it all, having spent so long shutting down any possibility of something between them. Last night she let Lucifer nudge her out of her comfort zone a little, but maybe it’s time she does it on her own. Starting with going downstairs in her pajamas for once.

* * *

As plans go, this one is neither subtle nor particularly obvious either. She wants to prove to Lucifer that she’s not going to back down or retreat into herself after last night, but she could also easily play it off if questioned. It’s Sunday morning, after all. She’s allowed to be lazy. 

Lucifer doesn’t bother to question her attire, but she can see from his wide smile that he understands the significance of the gesture. She offers back a small smile of her own, but otherwise tries to act as though it’s a totally normal thing to parade around in nothing but his spare sleep shirt. 

She manages to take her normal seat at the kitchen counter without accidentally flashing Lucifer, but she is keenly aware of how exposed she still is. Lucifer is seating himself as well, fluffy Greek omelettes already set out before them, which gives him the perfect vantage point to occasionally glance down at her bare legs with obvious appreciation. She’s trying to ignore the fact that they’re each currently wearing one half of a matching set, which means he, of course, is shirtless. And he has been shirtless every morning since they got here, but somehow it’s completely different with so much bared skin of her own, and with her new resolution to see where this goes between them. Every move feels suddenly charged between them, and it’s a lot to take in this early in the morning. She does her best to ignore the added intensity, and bring her focus back to her breakfast, which is amazing as usual.

“You know, I could really get used to this,” she offers up in an attempt to break some of the tension. “I think you’ve spoiled me for cold cereal and grapefruit forever.”

“Just say the word and I will make breakfast any time you desire.” He extends back, with all the obvious implications. 

“I guess you’ve gotten pretty skilled at making breakfast for the women in your life.” She tries not to let any bitterness creep into her voice. She doesn’t begrudge Lucifer his past, not really, but she still sometimes worries that one day he’ll tire of her as well, even if he’s shown no signs of doing so thus far.   

“Perhaps, though usually they at least have the decency to sleep with me first.” He teases, bumping her bare knee gently with his own.

“So you’ve never…” She sort of wants to ask if he’s ever actually had a real relationship before, though she’s not certain what she wants that answer to be. 

“You’re the only woman that holds that particular honor.” He replies honestly. This time his knee reaches over and stays pressed against her own, and she allows herself to smile a little at the response. His skin is warm even through the thin pajama pants, but more than that his answer causes her whole body to warm pleasantly. He may have never been serious about anyone that came before, but he’s making an effort to prove he can be serious now. 

They enjoy the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence, relishing the tentative contact between their bodies. Chloe immediately regrets the loss when Lucifer stands to clear their dishes. 

“You should just be thankful I actually enjoy cooking, otherwise I might have to question who the housewife is here.” His teasing tone is back.

“Hey! I have a job!” She defends, “I mean Barbara Jones has a job. Obviously I do.”

“You mean those frou-frou lotions?” 

“Hey those frou-frou lotions got me in with the other housewives in the neighborhood.” She ignores Lucifer’s little victorious ‘a-ha!’ at lumping herself in with those same housewives, continuing on as if he had never spoken, “I’ve even been invited to do a sales party at Bunny’s on Monday.” Lucifer’s grin only widens. “Speaking of which, I actually need to go down the station today. Detective Diaz’s wife really does sell this stuff and is going to give me a crash course on all the products so I can sound like I know what I’m talking about - though I suspect she’s more hoping I’ll actually sell some of this junk. But the CSI team should be done with the other house pretty soon, and we can see if they’ve found anything else at the scene if you want to join me?”

“You know I’d love to talk bath products and blood spatters, but I actually have an appointment with our friend Maxine this afternoon.”   

“With the marriage counselor?” Chloe’s brow furrows, trying to puzzle out why Lucifer would need to talk to her. “You don’t actually suspect her of anything, do you? I mean I can go with you if you think we need to find out more about her, though she didn’t really raise any red flags when we talked to her before…” 

“That’s quite alright, Detective, I think I’ll handle this one on my own.”

Chloe eyes him suspiciously. “You’re not like…pursuing her, are you? I mean I know she’s attractive, and you seem to have a thing for women who ignore you” - a category that used to only include herself, she realizes uneasily - “but Maxine is a lesbian, and also happily married. With kids, even!” 

“I assure you my intentions are entirely pure.” He holds his hands up in some kind of bastardized version of a boy scout’s honor salute, trying to look as innocent as possible. Which usually means he’s guilty. 

“I’m sure.” She answers back sharply, frustrated that they’re back to him hiding things from her. But more than anything she’s mad at herself for thinking things might have actually changed between them. “I guess I’ll head to the station by myself, so I’m going to get dressed.”

She moves to get up, and get out of this room where it suddenly feels like there’s not quite enough air anymore. But Lucifer grasps at her too long sleeve as she’s walking away, forcing her to stop in her tracks. 

“Detective, I…” He starts, and when she looks back he looks genuinely upset by her sudden coldness, but it’s all she has to protect herself with right now. 

“I’ll see you when I get back to the house.” She shrugs him off, rushing out of the room before the humiliation overtakes her.

* * *

Back at the station, Chloe pointedly ignores all of Ella’s questions about how things are going with Lucifer. She’s already endured over an hour with Marlana Diaz and her extensive selection of organic skin care products for sale, each with its own ridiculous pitch, and it hasn’t improved her mood in the slightest. Right now she just really, really wants to focus back on the real case. Right now they’re supposed to be exploring possible motives.

“I’m thinking the affair angle is the most likely scenario with evidence we have.”

“Speaking of affairs…” Elena chimes in, as subtle as a punch in the face, and almost as painful. She tries not to think what Lucifer might be up to right now with Maxine. Or Sharon. Or both of them. 

Chloe shoots a thoroughly unamused look toward the other agent, who thankfully takes the hint and gets back on topic.

“I guess it makes sense, with the weird sex house being the scene of the crime. Though it’s a little strange she was killed out in the backyard instead of inside. Way less risk of witnesses.”

“The violence and improvised weapon mean it was likely a crime of passion, so it’s not that strange. We think that maybe she was leaving the house, when the killer got angry. Or perhaps the guy’s wife was waiting out there and just snapped. Did you find any evidence of her being in the house itself.” 

“Nada, though the house has probably been cleaned a few times in the past couple months. I mean several people  were definitely using that house like a hotel, but like a nice hotel. The sheets have been washed at some point, the floors vacuumed. We were sort of expecting a Super8 motel scenario, but while we picked up a lot of fingerprints, we only got three DNA samples, and those will take some time to process.” 

“Any hits on the fingerprints?” 

“Only two so far, but Tamika’s still widening our net. We’ll have the info for you in another couple hours, including a file on all of our preliminary findings. It’s not much so far but hey, at least we know almost for sure the blood on the wood is a match for Vidya’s. AB neg is pretty rare.” 

Ella offers a supportive thumbs up, and weirdly it helps ease a little of the tension she’s been feeling all afternoon. Even if her personal life is a complete disaster, at least they’re getting somewhere with the case. She hopes she can distract herself here for a few more hours with all the paperwork that’s accumulated, but Ella just shuffles her out, pointing to the dark circles under her eyes as a reason enough for her to finish it later. 

* * *

She doesn’t expect to find anyone at home when she arrives. It’s barely 6:30, and who knows how long Lucifer will be out doing…whatever it is he’s doing. And she certainly doesn’t expect to find him calmly sitting on the couch, takeout containers of her favorite mole rojo and a bottle of red wine sitting on the coffee table, clearly anticipating her arrival.

But she’s not about to be bought off with Mexican takeout, even if she’s been craving it for weeks. Her tone still carries some of its previous coldness when she finally addresses him. “I thought you were with Maxine today?” 

“Oh that? The appointment only lasted an hour, and Sharon is right - she really doesn’t charge enough for her services.”

“Charge enough for what services?” She can feel her frustration building again. Why must this man always speak in convoluted riddles and jokes? 

“I thought that would be obvious - Maxine is a relationship counselor after all.” He chuckles, though he at least has the sense to look a tiny bit apologetic. “I was simply asking her for some advice.” 

“You _what_?” Just what exactly had he told their neighbors?

“No need to worry, Detective, I didn’t reveal our true identities to her. I merely suggested we, or Robert and Barbara Jones, had been having some trouble communicating.” 

Some of her anger deflates at his response, leaving her more confused than anything else. “And why would you even tell her this?” 

“Because it’s the truth. Because I’ve done everything I can think of to convince you of the sincerity of my affections, and still you keep me at arm’s length - so I thought I might try consulting with a relationship professional.”

“So this,” she indicates the food on the table, “is your plan to convince me?”

“No, this is merely a token of apology, to make up for this morning’s ruined meal. I had thought, perhaps…Maxine had a very complicated explanation about a thing called ‘love languages’, and I confess a lot of it sounded like nonsense, but she also helped me realize that I might not always appear to be the most reliable of men.”

Chloe huffs out an agreement for Maxine’s assessment. It’s certainly an understatement.

“And when she asked about our most recent disagreement, I tried to explain what happened this morning - without giving too much away about our work, of course. She said you were perhaps exhibiting signs of jealousy - which I told her was completely ridiculous, you know my interest lies solely in you. So then she suggested you might instead be upset because I abandoned you to do all the work yourself, which sounded much more like you. Apparently the good doctor is as perceptive as her wife claims her to be.”

Chloe can admit to herself that she _was_ a bit jealous before she knew the reason for Lucifer’s appointment, and she’s embarrassed to have the fact be made so apparent to their neighbors, thought at least Lucifer remains unaware of those feelings. But more than that she realizes she really was upset that he had ditched her once again merely because it suited him. And that’s what frightens her the most about this thing with Lucifer - even though lately he’s always been there for the big stuff, she can’t always count on him for the little things. And relationships are made up of those little things. She can’t rely on the occasional grand gestures to make this work.  

But Lucifer presses on with his explanation. “So I picked up your favorite meal from Guelaguetza to apologize and then I thought maybe I could help you with the paperwork this time, and we can go over the case files together?” 

“How’d you even…Ella.” Chloe suddenly realizes why the other woman had rushed her out of the office with her paperwork unfinished. Those two were thick as thieves, and twice as dangerous when they conspired against her.    

“She merely suggested I might offer my services tonight, and perhaps mentioned what time you might be home.”

And it’s certainly not a grand gesture - it’s only Mexican food and paperwork after all. But he’s here for her when he doesn’t have to be, and it’s exactly what she needs right now. She breathes out a heavy sigh, letting go of her frustrations and her fears, just for a little while, and lets herself smile back at the man standing repentant before her.

“That would be great, Lucifer. Thank you.”

Maybe Maxine really does have superpowers, after all. 

* * *

After all that, it turns out that Lucifer is really not much help with her paperwork - she spends more time explaining to him how to fill out the reports than it would have taken for her to do them on her own - but she’s happy to share the task all the same.

They’ve highlighted some names on their list as the most likely suspects - Cliff and Peggy Davis at the top, but also Mercedes and Hank, their hosts from the luau, and several other couples they know are having trouble, including the Isaacsons. The Lamonts have an alibi, at least. They were on a costly family vacation in the Bahamas at the time of the murder. There are still a lot of names on their list, however, and they’ve barely trimmed it down from where it was before.

But through it all, Lucifer never once complains - though he does pout a little when she pulls out several more stacks of reports from her bag. Still they work their way through everything they can, plus quite a lot of mole rojo, and the entire bottle of wine. By midnight they’ve started recreating the murder scene using the styrofoam container as an improvised weapon, Chloe bludgeoning an unresisting Lucifer.

“A hit, a very palpable hit!” He announces as he falls to the ground. 

Lucifer has apparently decided that the well-educated Ms. Patel would be quoting Hamlet on the way down, and Chloe joins him on the floor in a fit of giggles at their terrible playacting. She’s not quite tipsy, neither of them are, but they’ve certainly moved into the sillier stages of exhaustion. Which is how she winds up kneeling on the floor above a “wounded” Lucifer, smiling down at her partner’s ridiculous soliloquizing.

At the end of his speech, she finally gives into the irresistible urge to lean down and kiss him. She doesn’t overthink it, or hesitate for a moment, she just plants her hands beside his head and presses her lips to his. He still tastes of hot sauce and peppers - she imagines they both do - but the kiss is still as sweet as their first. Only this time there’s no one there watching them, no one they need to convince. She’s doing this purely because she wants to, because Lucifer is trying so hard to prove himself to her, and simply because she can. So she lets herself have this. Lucifer doesn’t resist in the slightest, not that she had expected him to, but neither does he push for more, content to let her set the pace this time. 

After a while she allows the kiss to deepen, chasing the taste of spice and wine as her tongue sweeps into Lucifer’s parted lips, a gesture he eagerly returns. His hand eventually reaches up to thread long fingers through her hair, gently tugging back the golden strands and drawing out a small gasp in response. She nips his bottom lip gently in retaliation, soothing the bite with her tongue and earning a pleased growl for herself. But there’s no real urgency here, allowing the kiss to stretch on endlessly until they’re both lightheaded from it.

Chloe thinks she spend hours doing this, just making out on the living room floor like a couple teenagers. Or maybe she could pretend this really was their house, and that she gets to wake up to a shirtless Lucifer cooking breakfast for her every morning. Or better yet, to him in the bed beside her, waking her with lazy, drawn-out kisses.  But whatever this thing is between them is still too new, and she can recognize her own need to take it slow for now.

Thankfully, Lucifer seems to understand this as well. When she reluctantly pulls back, he willingly lets her guide them back onto the couch, where the last of the paperwork still awaits them. They settle in to finish the work together, Chloe relaxing into Lucifer’s side, feeling safe and content in a way she had never expected to feel again.


	6. Interrogation

Chloe wakes up gradually, feeling well-rested and content in a way she hasn’t in a long while. She snuggles deeper into her pillow, only to realize that her pillow is strangely solid, and also breathing.

She opens her eyes slowly, taking in her surroundings. She’s still in their living room, by the looks of things, which means she fell asleep on the couch last night. Which means her pillow is…

Normally, this would be the part where she runs away. A small part of her is still really tempted to. But the larger part of her is quite happy right where she is, and last night sort of feels like a may have been turning point for both of them. Lucifer has finally stopped trying to prove that he was into her, which she was obviously aware of, and is instead trying to prove he can commit to her - as a partner, as a friend, even as something more - and in turn she’s finally willing to let herself be convinced of his sincerity.

Plus his chest is surprisingly comfortable, and she finds herself reluctant to move away.

She wonders if Lucifer is still asleep, and wonders what she’ll even say to him when he does wake up. She curls her arm more securely around his chest and listens carefully to the sound of his breathing.

It almost sounds like he’s chuckling at her now, and she can actually feel the rumbling of his chest beneath her cheek. So definitely awake then. But when she listens more carefully she realizes he’s not laughing, but humming. It takes her a second to catch on to the tune, but she she does she nearly groans.

“Are you seriously humming Mrs. Jones right now?” She look up towards where his eyes still remain closed above her.

“It seemed rather fitting.” He actually does laugh this time, before singing the words out loud in the same rumbling baritone. “ _Me and Mrs. Jones, we’ve got a thing going on…”_

“You know the guy in the song isn’t Mr. Jones, right? He’s not her husband.” She jokes, hoping that he doesn’t notice the way his words and his voice are starting to affect her.

“Neither am I, as you so love to remind me.” He mocks back, drawing her more tightly against him.

“So, exactly how long have you been waiting to pull that out?”

“Oh ages.” He breathes out. “Since I saw the names the Lieutenant picked for us.”

“Well aren’t you just the picture of restraint all the sudden?”

“Some things are worth waiting for.” And it’s obvious that he doesn’t just mean the song.

“You did not really just say that.” She pushes herself up to look down at him. “That was almost romantic.” She teases, despite feeling practically giddy at his easy response.

Lucifer simply closes his eyes and relaxes back into the cushions below. “Fine, then I take it back. Pretend I said something appropriately filthy instead.”

“Nope, no take backs!” And because she’s still feeling a little overwhelmed by the sentiment, and more than a little giddy at this point, she bends down to kiss him again. Lucifer responds just as readily as he had the night before, only now it’s even better because her entire body is pressed against his warmth. And there are few things better than lazy, early morning kisses.

Slowly, their kiss becomes a little less lazy. His hands begin to run teasingly up her back, occasionally gripping at her sides whenever she does something especially nice. Like nibble on his bottom lip, or curl her tongue against his own. She even manages a pleased moan when she moves to nip along his jawline, and he arches his neck back in offering. Not one to ignore an obvious request, and secretly reveling in the power she holds over this man, she sets to work kissing and nipping down the side of his throat. One of his hands reaches up to thread through her hair, half holding her in place, half simply seeking something to hold onto. But when she finally bites down at the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet, he practically growls beneath her and before she knows it their positions are reversed.

Lucifer looks down at her briefly, eyes entirely black but almost flashing red in the morning light, before offering her neck the same treatment. Both her hands shift to his hair, delighting in the opportunity to make a mess of it, as his teeth scrape deliciously down the sensitive skin of her throat. She gasps when he bites down on the same spot she did, the sting of it just this side of pleasurable. But Lucifer soothes the bite with his tongue before continues down across the exposed skin of her chest and shoulders a little more gently.

Meanwhile, his hands have made their way up towards the underside of her breasts, and Chloe arches beneath him in encouragement. But Lucifer draws it out, carefully tracing along her ribs just below, and then up the sides so lightly it almost tickles but also it really, _really_ doesn’t. And just when she’s about to grab his hands and move them herself he slides his palms over her, gently cupping her breasts and running his thumbs along where her nipples are already straining against the fabric of her dress. She didn’t even need to wear a bra with this and so she can easily feel the warmth of his palm against her skin and the brush of his fingers against the tight peaks. He drags down the straps of her dress with his teeth, sending heat to pool low in her belly, but the zipper is still trapped beneath her back, unreachable unless they move.

And he does move, but only to get more comfortable, and so her dress stays firmly in place. Except now his thigh is pressed tantalizingly between her legs, where she can already feel herself growing warm and slick and straining for more friction. She can tell the precise moment he notices this, feeling his slow smile against her shoulder, but she’s long past caring. Especially when one of his hands is trailing down her side, reaching to stroke against the bit of skin revealed by the shifting edge of her skirt. She shivers as his thumb strokes just above her knee.

He makes no move to slide beneath the fabric, however, just as he hasn’t gone for her zipper. She realizes he’s waiting on her, and the thought makes her bold. She spreads her legs further, without a trace of shame. This time she can actually see his grin as he moves back up to kiss her again. His lips muffle the soft sounds she makes as his fingers trail up her bare thigh with excruciating slowness, the leisureliness of the pace in direct contrast with the intensity of his kiss. But still she can hear herself moaning when Lucifer allows his nails to drag lightly across the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, nearing the apex. Her own nails are currently digging into his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

Finally, _finally_ , he cups a broad palm against her center, hot even through the material of her underwear, and she unconsciously grinds up against the heel of his hand, seeking more. And he gives it to her, pressing against her more firmly, drawing a ragged gasp from her. He shifts his hand to drag his middle finger slowly along the seam of her, briefly circling her clit before reaching up to the lacey edge of her panties. His fingers dip in teasingly, and she shivers at the feel of his long fingers so close to where she needs them right now. His hand is nearly there when they hear the front door slam open.

“Lucifer, your fucking phone is turned off, what the hell is that about?” Mazikeen’s voice echoes through the foyer, startling Chloe and making her bolt off the couch. By the time the other woman reaches the living room, she finds Lucifer sprawled on the floor rubbing his head and Chloe trying to look as upright as possible in a rumpled sundress.

“Oh I can’t believe this, am I interrupting something here?” She smirks, obviously realizing that she has and just trying to make them admit to it. Lucifer, surprisingly, demurs.

“Only my being knocked to the floor by a very jumpy detective.” He finally rights himself, brushing off the imaginary dust from the floor, pretending not to be smoothing other things down.

“Uh huh..” Mazikeen quirks an eyebrow at the pair, clearly unconvinced.

Chloe decides to avoid the question altogether to try and retain whatever is left of her dignity. “Every hear of knocking? For all we know you could have been the murderer.”

“How do you know I’m not?” Mazikeen’s grin exposes her sharp teeth, making her look every inch the villain, but Chloe just rolls her eyes.

“Because there’s nothing in it for you.” She shrugs.

“This is true.”  Mazikeen agrees. “Speaking of this murder interfering with my life, I need Lucifer to get his ass down to Lux. When I said I’d watch the place for a few days I didn’t mean I was going to be taking business meetings.”

“But you would look so lovely in a suit.” Lucifer taunts, looking pointedly at Maze’s ripped leather get up.

“And you better put one on. I’m not about to be seen in public with you looking like some IT dork coming to fix our computers.” Mazikeen looks over his current outfit, torn between disgust and laughter.

“You should have seen his Hawaiian shirt.” Chloe adds, purposely keeping the conversation focused on Lucifer’s wardrobe and not what was happening here only a few moments earlier. Lucifer glances over with a look of utter betrayal but Maze’s face lights up like it’s Christmas.

“Oh please tell me you have photos of that!” She demands. But before Chloe can break the bad news to her, Lucifer is already insisting it was “all Detective Douche’s fault.”

“This actually makes me like Dan a little more.” Mazikeen laughs, and Chloe quite nearly agrees. She doesn’t love the constant petty squabbling between her ex and her current partner, but even she had to admit that was pretty funny.

“See if I save you from those meetings now!” Lucifer retorts petulantly.

“Don’t think of it as saving me from your meetings, think of it as saving your meetings from me.” Mazikeen’s grin grows even wider, if that’s possible, the threat clear from her bared teeth. A brief standoff follows, before Lucifer finally relents.

“I suppose I should go into the office today, be a nine to five working sod like all the rest of them.” He gestures outward, which she takes to mean he’s referring to the other men in the neighborhood, as if he’s just trying to maintain his cover and Mazikeen hasn’t won this round.

“It’s fine, I need to get ready for this sales party thing anyway. Bunny’s expecting me at 10:30.”

Mazikeen nearly insists on coming with her instead, demanding she prove there’s an actual grown woman named Bunny, but Lucifer thankfully drags her off to Lux. She finally starts getting ready for her own ‘job’, doing her best to ignore the fact that she’s still a little keyed up from Lucifer’s expert touch, as well as how empty the house feels now that he’s no longer in it.

* * *

Over at the Isaacsons, Chloe belatedly realizes that she shouldn’t have wasted her time learning everything about Marlana’s products - the sales party was clearly just an excuse to start drinking at 11 am and exchange gossip. Outside of Sharon and Maxine, and of course poor Vidya, none of the women in the neighborhood seem to hold down a real job or do much of anything, which severely limits the topics of conversation. Chloe is already bored after the first half hour of discussing Rachel Warren’s macrobiotic diet (Chloe recognized her as the woman who brought them kale muffins), the best pre-preschools (a concept Chloe never even knew existed but is apparently essential to a child’s future success), and of course the other women in the neighborhood.

“You know I adore Sharon and Maxine, but they let those boys run wild! I would never let my kids just roam around unsupervised like that. And I never see them at any of the booster club meetings.” Rachel says in a way that makes Chloe think she doesn’t _actually_ adore Sharon and Maxine.

“Don’t kids need a little independence?” Chloe suggests, partly in defense of the two women but also in hopes of taking down the righteous indignance a notch or two. It’s beginning to grate on her.

“Well of course, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be monitored. And they’re still so young! I wouldn’t let them out of my sight.”

“You’ll understand when you’re a mother.” Phyllis from across the street offers up reassuringly, though it has the opposite effect on Chloe. She barely avoids correcting the other woman, trying her hardest not to think how her own daughter is nearly the same age, and whether it make her a bad mother that she’s only had a few hours with her in the past 5 days.

“But I mean, what can you expect with them both working full time? I would never be able to abandon my kids all day like that.” Ok, that stings a little, but Trixie understands how important her job is, and it’s not like Maxine and Sharon’s kids seem unhappy either with their moms working. It’s not like with her Mom, who was barely ever home even when she wasn’t working. Chloe will always put Trixie first, even if she doesn’t hover over her every second of the day. But it seems she’s alone in thinking this way about parenting.

“Perhaps they need the money, or just don’t feel any maternal instincts. I mean, you never know with those people.” Betty Lewis adds unnecessarily, taking a long drink.

“Betty!” Rachel turns to Chloe, “We have absolutely no problem with Maxine and Sharon embracing their alternative lifestyle, I don’t want you thinking we’re bigoted here or anything. It’s just we as mothers can’t really understand rushing back to work when there are kids who need us.”

None of this is very reassuring to Chloe, on either account. But Betty continues on as if her age and successful family of five makes her fit to judge every other parent in the neighborhood.

“You know who I really don’t get? That environmental lawyer woman, trying to have a kid on her own.”

“I thought it was brave. Motherhood is tough enough already, I can’t imagine going into it alone. But she was such a sweet girl.” Tanya has two young twins, with matching full time nannies. She’s certainly not doing this alone. Still, she’s pleasant enough.

“And rich,” Rachel adds, though with a surprising lack of cattiness. “She didn’t even need to work. She must have really loved that job though. I imagine her hours were what kept her from finding a husband, she was certainly pretty enough.”

“Maybe she was too busy with other women's’ husbands.” Peggy Davis scoffs, and Chloe perks up. This is the first negative thing anyone has had to say about their victim, and it definitely fits with the affair theory. And she already knows her husband Cliff is a slimeball from when he made a pass at her at the luau.

Bunny, who has been ignoring most of the childcare conversation in favor of enjoying her mimosa, turns to whisper conspiratorially to Chloe, “Peggy’s had it out for her ever since one of the neighbors saw that girl and Cliff coming up from the house at the end of the street together. I mean, we all know what he’s really up to down there!” She giggles.

Chloe tries to maintain a look of casual interest, but her mind is racing - this might finally be the connection they were looking for. But without any solid proof she can’t afford to blow her cover just yet. Instead she shoots off a quick text back to the station, and tries to endure another few hours of feeling like the worst mom in the room until this ends. Then another officer can quietly pick up Cliff and Peggy for questioning.

And she does manage to sell a few skincare sets for Diaz’s wife, at least.

* * *

Down at the station. Peggy is quick to offer up the details of her husband’s alleged affair, though the only thing that points to Vidya’s involvement is another neighbor who claims to have seen the two of them hanging around the end of the street. Peggy knows about #47, of course, and can list every late night “meeting” he’s taken with the impressive recall of a woman who’s probably anticipating a divorce hearing in the near future, but it’s not enough.

In the opposite room, Cliff still maintains his innocence, slippery as ever when Dan tries to question him. Chloe and Lucifer (now back in his trademark suit) are forced to watch this ridiculous display impatiently through the two way mirror. She wishes she could go in there and do the asking herself, but at least she’s not stuck out here alone. She’s actually a little amazed that Lucifer left Lux just to witness the interrogation - normally he leaves the ‘boring’ parts to her. But it seems he really is committed to being a better partner. Chloe smiles at the thought.

Then of course he has to go and blow their cover by storming into the interrogation room, apparently pissed that Cliff continues to deny ever having an affair, or even having propositioned Chloe as Barbara.

“How about we cease with the lies, and you tell everyone exactly what you did to that poor girl.”

“What the hell, man? What’s he doing here?” Cliff yells towards Dan, who looks very much like he wants to ask Lucifer the same exact questions.

“It doesn’t matter what I’m doing here, what matters is what you’ve done to the girl.”

“Done what to what girl? Are you a cop or something?”

“No, but I am.” Chloe announces as she enters the room. She figures with Lucifer’s outburst the jig is up anyway, and they might as well get answers. “And you will answer our questions. Now first, what was your involvement with Vidya Patel? Were you two having an affair?”

“No way. She's cute and all, but I really prefer blondes.” He manages a leer in her direction, despite now knowing that she’s a cop (and armed), as well as the fact that both her fake and ex-husband look equally prepared to shoot him at the slightest provocation. “I just wanted to talk to her because she's a lawyer and I needed some legal advice, but all she wanted to talk about was real estate development.”

“Don’t bother denying it, you wife already told us everything. Apparently you really screwed up when you went screwing around.” Lucifer insists, and Chloe is surprised to see their suspect suddenly turn pale. And then go red with anger.

“Well then did she tell you it was all her idea?” He fumes.

Chloe is about to ask why his wife would tell him to have an affair but Cliff continues his rant. “She even insisted we move into that stupid neighborhood with all those new money idiots looking to invest.”

Cliff finally stops himself at the look of confusion he’s met with, but Lucifer is quick to encourage him to keep going. “Tell me, Cliff, what is it that you desire more than anything?”

Chloe still doesn’t understand how Lucifer does it, but as usual his weird superpower seems to work. Cliff pours out his confession - the whole investment firm was a scam, none of the properties were even real. Peggy was the the real brains behind the scheme though, and the one that picked their marks. They’d been doing this for years, and rather successfully. But Cliff’s affairs had driven a wedge between them, and Peggy is quick to turn on him even without her partner’s persuasive skills. By the end of the day Chloe has enough to put both of the Davises away on fraud and embezzlement.

Unfortunately, their confessions also give them both an alibi for the night of the murder. And since Cliff maintains he had no involvement with Vidya other than a single conversation about business, they still know of nothing that might have given someone motive to kill her. Chloe tries to remind herself that at least they had narrowed down the suspect list, if only by two people. And they had managed to catch some bad guys, even if they weren’t the right ones.

Lucifer, sensing her frustration, assures her that he will help her go over the case again later that evening with as little innuendo as he can manage. Which is still a lot of innuendo, but she finds it doesn’t bother her as much now that she’s decided to give...whatever this is a try. She suspects they won’t really get very much done on the case tonight, especially with no Mazikeen to interrupt this time. She’s surprisingly ok with this, thought. Chloe realizes she’s still a little wound up from this morning, and thinks maybe this is just what she needs to get her mind off her terrible afternoon.

* * *

Chloe returns to the house while Lucifer finishes up a few things at Lux, feeling more than a little drained from the day she she just had. She pours herself a glass of wine - a constant perk to sharing a kitchen with Lucifer, it seems - pondering whether or not to try and actually go over their revised suspect list, knowing that this is probably her best chance to get some real work done. She also considers taking a long hot bath, and maybe shaving her legs before Lucifer gets back. She’s decided that she definitely deserves a little fooling around after everything else that has happened today.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. She half hopes it’s Lucifer, calling to say he’s already heading home, but it turns out it’s just the developer. Chloe tries not to sigh, taking another long sip of her wine before answering. It seems they’re going to have to ask Ms. Palmer for an extension to their stay, and this is as good a time as any to bring it up. Chloe is already planning out how to approach the topic as she picks up, but the other woman immediately begins talking over her without so much as a “hello”.

“The plan worked, we finally found a buyer for the house! A family of three, and they want to move in by the end of the week! That means I am going to need you two out ASAP.”

Chloe tries not to groan in frustration. This is the exact opposite of what she needs right now. She tries to carefully remind the other woman that they haven’t found the murderer yet, and that the house hasn’t officially been ruled out as a crime scene. This doesn’t seem to make any difference to the developer.

“Look, The Palisades is a nice neighborhood filled with nice people. You’re not going to find any criminals living there.” Chloe very carefully doesn’t mention that they already have. Two, in fact. “Honestly she probably killed herself.”

“You think she bludgeoned herself to death?” Chloe asks, a little dumbfounded by the flippant response.

“You know what I mean, she probably ran off and got herself killed by some strange man. It happens to desperate women all the time. I’ve seen it on Dateline.”

“What makes you think she was desperate?”

“Come on, she was past 35, single, and pretending like she wanted to raise a kid by herself. No one wants that, such a lonely, miserable life.”

And there it is again, the reminder that her life as a working single mother is certainly less than ideal.

“But aren't you…” past 35, single, miserable yourself? She wants to ask.

“I am currently seeing someone, not that it's any of your business, but I do have a life outside my office, unlike some people.” Ouch. Chloe knows that Ms. Palmer’s words are pointed at their victim, but she can’t help but feel them aimed a little at her as well. She ends the conversation as swiftly as she can, vowing to bring up the extension tomorrow. But right now, she really needs a drink. Possibly several.

* * *

“Honey I’m home!” Lucifer gleefully announces from front door, like he’s been waiting all week to use to that line.

He does not, however, seem to anticipate finding her sprawled out on the couch next to an empty bottle of wine and a very sad dinner of ice cream and crackers.

“You’re back,” she announces unnecessarily, attempting to sit up and nearly knocking over what was left of the ice cream pint. “What time is it?”

“Later than I realized if you’ve had time to get through a whole bottle all on your own,” he frowns.

“Don’t worry, there’s still some left in the kitchen.” She tries to stand this time, which turns out to be even worse than sitting up. Lucifer immediately presses her back down into the couch, possibly to save her from tipping over, before taking a seat beside her.

“I think you may have had enough.” The condescension should annoy her but Lucifer sounds so worried she nearly starts crying right in front of him.

“Sorry, it’s just been a whole day of everyone telling me I’m a bad parent who’s going to die alone because I spend too much time at work.” She drops her forehead to his shoulder, wishing to hide from the embarrassment that is her life right now.

“Who told you this?” His words are laced with anger, though it doesn’t seem to be directed at her at least. She buries her face further into shoulder before mumbling out a response.

“Let’s see, Rachel, Betty, Tanya - Bunny and Peggy might as well have - oh and Ms. Palmer.”

“And so you’re just taking the word of some silly little twits? One of whom I will remind you is called Bunny. Come now, Chloe, really...”

"You said it too. You called me a spinster!" She reminds him, sitting back up to look him in the eye.

"I said no such thing!” He protests.

“Yes you did, you said it the first night we were here.” Her memories are currently a little hazy but she definitely remembers the words “eternal spinsterhood”.

“I believe what I said was that you are much too young and far too attractive to even think of becoming a spinster.” He gently cups a broad palm around the side of her face, forcing her to look at him as he says this. She can’t help the little shiver that runs through her with the force of his words. But still she pulls back.

"You definitely did not say that."

"Then allow me to make amends, Detective. I will make sure to always remind you of this in the future, in case some idiot ever tries to convince you otherwise." He’s smiling again now, the real smile that always makes her melt just a little. The one that now reminds her of how she had originally envisioned this evening going.

“Are you going to take me to bed now, Lucifer?” She hopes the slight slurring comes across as seductive. Judging by the look Lucifer’s giving her, it probably doesn’t.

“Yes, I am - so you can sleep this off.” He states with a certain finality in his tone.

And with that he actually picks her up, just as he had done their first night here. Only this time she doesn’t fight it, allowing herself to relax into his arms, head pressed into the crook of his neck. She breathes him in, and somehow he smells even better now than he had then. His skin is so warm, and Chloe decides she’s going to live right here from now on. She also realizes that she’s probably at least a little bit drunk.

Lucifer carries her all the way up to her own room before setting her gently on the bed, making sure she doesn’t immediately tip over. Chloe thinks he’s finally going to kiss her now, but instead he moves away to begin searching the room, and she nearly whines at the loss.

“Now where are your pajamas, kitten?” He asks almost to himself, searching through her closet and a few of the drawers. Chloe is wondering how he can be thinking of pajamas when he’s finally in her bedroom - there should definitely be less, rather than more clothes. By the time he turns around to check on her she’s already managed to get her dress off, and is struggling with the hooks of her strapless bra. Lucifer finally moves over toward her again, but only to gently stop her attempts.

“You never answered my question, pet.” It takes Chloe a moment to realize he’s still looking for her pajamas, though she still has no idea why. Hasn’t he been trying to get her undressed since they first met? She simply shrugs, not remembering exactly where she put the shirt the other morning. They both slept in their clothes last night.

Lucifer closes his eyes briefly, seemingly with a need to collect himself. Chloe is embarrassed to realize it’s probably because she’s behaving like a complete idiot. But when Lucifer looks back at her, he simply sighs and begins removing his own shirt. Chloe perks up a little at the move, but once the shirt is off, he immediately begins slipping her own arms into it. She looks up at him, puzzled at the turn off events, but Lucifer simply continues buttoning the shirt up over her. Once she’s fully covered by the soft burgundy cotton, he reaches back to unhook the bra through her shirt. It’s actually kind of impressive. Chloe at least musters up the dexterity to remove it the rest of the way.

Giving up on any possibility of turning this evening around, Chloe allows Lucifer to pull back the covers for her, carefully tucking the blankets around her once she finally manages to settle in. He even presses a gentle kiss to her forehead as if she were a child, which she endures with as little fuss as possible, despite having wanted a very different ending to this day. But when he turns to leave her she finally speaks up.

“Stay.”

He pauses for a second, considering her carefully, before removing his shoes and belt and sliding into the bed behind her. She immediately pulls his bared arm around her middle, hand nearly at her breasts. She’s suddenly very aware of how Lucifer’s shirt is brushing against her skin, nipples hardening at the nearness of his long fingers.

“You know, I’m not really _that_ drunk.” She suggests without any subtlety.

“Yes, you are.” Lucifer sighs into the back of her head. She can feel her face heating at the obvious rejection, and is thankful that she is facing the other direction so he can’t see it.

They’re both silent for several minutes before Lucifer speaks again.

“You know, this is the second time you’ve become intoxicated before throwing yourself at me. I’m beginning to suspect you may be doing this on purpose.” His tone is teasing but his words have a ring of truth to them.

“Why would I humiliate myself on purpose?” She huffs out, still refusing to face him.

“Because you don’t want to admit you might actually like me.”

Chloe nearly rolls her eyes, but she realizes it’s sort of true. Lucifer’s always had his cards out on the table, and all she’s been able to offer back are excuses. And it’s been a long day for both of them, but maybe this was what she really needed. Maybe they both do.

“Fine. Maybe I do like you a little bit.”

She can feel him smiling against the crown of her head.

“A _very_ little bit.”

He huffs out a small laugh, warm and tickling against her ear. “I look forward to hearing you repeat that in the morning when you sober up.”

“What makes you think you can get me to say it again?” She teases, even as she finally turns to face him.

“No take backs, remember?” He smiles at her in the dark as she tucks her head back against his shoulder, finally drifting off to sleep.


	7. The Truth

It only takes a moment for the memory of everything that had happened last night to come back to her on waking, and with it comes renewed embarrassment at her actions and the lingering sting of Lucifer’s rejection (not to mention a slight headache from the wine). Her face heats up with shame where it’s still pressed against Lucifer’s bare chest, his arms wrapped solidly around her as they had been the previous morning. But this morning she feels more awkward than content, and completely unready to face him just yet.

Checking his breathing to see that he actually _is_ asleep this time (and not just faking it), she carefully slips out of his arms and off the bed. It only takes a moment to locate her stashed jeans, throwing them on beneath Lucifer’s shirt before slipping out of the room. As embarrassed as she is, she’s reluctant to remove this reminder of what had happened. It still smells like him, and it’s ridiculously soft against her bare skin. She almost considers not giving it back, and just when did she become that girl who steals her boyfriend’s clothes?

Boyfriend? It seems like a ridiculous word to apply to Lucifer, but she doesn’t exactly know what they are right now. Lovers? They’ve barely gotten past second base. And they’re certainly not really married. They’re partners - which is about as much as her brain can handle right now.

Without totally planning to, she realizes she has wandered all the way down to the woods behind #47, the forest still somewhat dark in the early dawn. She absently looks around for anything they might have missed earlier, not really expecting to find anything but happy to focus on anything besides her nebulous relationship status. Her life doesn’t revolve around Lucifer.

But of course, speak of the devil, and he shall appear.  

“You know you’re not as stealthy as you think you are, though I’ll certainly give you points for style.” His gaze falls to where his shirt is still wrapped around her, sans bra. She shivers a little in response, but fights to urge to cover herself. He’s apparently managed to find another shirt for himself in the meantime, and somehow this makes her even feel more exposed in front of him.

She decides to ignore his last comment. “I just needed to clear my head a bit, thought I’d take a walk.”

“Into the woods behind an empty murder house?” He challenges.

“I thought we might find something we missed before.”

Lucifer gives her a look like he’s not buying any of this, but he holds his tongue and falls into step with her when she resumes walking. Together they travel further into the trees in an awkward silence, moving away from the houses behind them. Though of course Lucifer can only stay quiet for so long.

“So, is there anything you wish to tell me this morning?” He looks over at her expectantly.

Even with her head still a little fuzzy, she knows what he’s getting at, but it’s much too early for this conversation. So instead, she goes for the next best thing.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever for?” He turns to her, eyes questioning.

For a brief moment she thinks this is part of the game, another attempt to get her to say what he wants her to. But his expression is entirely sincere, and so she answers honestly.

“For helping me get to bed last night, I obviously wasn’t at my best.”

“It was my pleasure, Detective.” He offers back with equal honesty, and the suggestion of something much deeper. “And for the record, you are always at your best. If perhaps not always at your most coordinated.” He nudges her gently, and she does her best not to blush at the memory of struggling with her bra. Or the memory of how he didn’t struggle at all.  

They fall into a more companionable silence this time, and Chloe actually does try and observe their surroundings for some new clue - though the likelihood of finding anything out here is practically nil. At least it gives her something to focus on other than the man walking next to her, or the way his hands keep brushing against hers as they walk.

They continue deeper into the woods, nearly out of view of the houses behind them. Something glints beneath the foliage over to her left, and she goes to take a closer look. She’s in the middle of inspecting the object (no more than a shiny rock) when a nearby rustling catches her attention, just behind where Lucifer is standing. It’s instinct more than anything that has her reaching for weapon - sadly, only a can of keychain mace - but she’s never been more thankful for those instincts when she discovers the source of the noise.

“Lucifer, I need you to move away from those bushes very, very slowly…” She breathes out slowly and deliberately, willing him to listen to her, just this once.

“Whatever for? What are you…” He looks back over his shoulder and whatever reaction Chloe might have expected him to have, it’s not laughter.

“Are you really about to pepper spray some poor cat?” He throws her a pointed look before approaching the animal.

“That’s a fucking _mountain lion,_ Lucifer, get away from it!” She hisses as he crouches down beside it.

“She’s a sweet girl, that’s what she is.” And Chloe thinks she may never understand this insane man or the weird power he has over everyone else, including, apparently, large predatory cats, because the thing is just sitting there, letting Lucifer rub its chin like some sort of overgrown housecat. She thinks it might even be purring.

“What are you, like the Beastmaster or something?” Chloe remains safely at a distance, knowing better than to approach the thing herself.

“I’m simply the Lord of Hell, and unlike humans, animals have no reason to fear me. To them I’m just another angel.”  

Chloe has no clue what to make of any of that, but quite frankly this whole situation is totally surreal. “So, what, all dogs go to heaven? Or all cats, then?”

“More or less. It’s not as though animals can sin. Especially not this lovely girl.” He coos, rubbing its ears as it playfully grabs at his arms and hands. She finally lets the arm holding out the mace fall to her side.

“Really, because I’m pretty sure cockroaches definitely belong in the 9th level of hell.” She lets out a choked laugh, feeling a touch of hysteria creeping up on her.

“There aren’t any levels to Hell, just many different doors. Dante may have been a great poet, but he certainly wasn’t a prophet.” And it’s times like these where she really can’t tell if he’s joking, his grin holding no trace of humor. “The beasts that do live there are far worse.”

She can’t think of any good response to that other another awkward attempt at a joke. “Yeah, but could they survive a nuclear winter?”

“Let’s hope we never have to find out.” After a beat he turns his attention back to the mountain lion, and Chloe simply watches him with the animal for several long moments. He almost looks...sweet. And it tugs at her in a strange way, a small echo of what she felt when she watched him playing with Trixie. He’s unexpectedly gentle with the giant cat, and she realizes he’s less guarded here as well, in a way he never seems to be around other human beings. _Except around her_ , her traitorous brain chooses to remind her. Though at least the thought chases away the last bit of embarrassment over last night’s behavior. She’s not the only one who’s letting down some of their walls here.

The sound of a nearby car manages to spook Lucifer’s new friend, sending it running back into the forest. Lucifer just stands up casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. But then Chloe catches sight of his left arm, and she moves over to inspect it.

“It scratched you!” She exclaims, holding up his arm as if to offer proof.

“Did she? The noise must have just startled her, I barely felt anything.” He responds, seemingly unconcerned. And while the marks aren’t that deep, tiny pricks of blood dot along the long scratches.

“I still need to look at it, and we’re definitely going to need some neosporin.” She concludes.

And if she doesn’t realize she’s still holding onto his hand the whole walk home, Lucifer neglects to remind her.

* * *

When they return to the house, Chloe goes into full on Mom-mode, scouring every room for a first aid kit - though ending up with little more than a washcloth and a bar of soap. And Lucifer, clearly humoring her, sits patiently on the bathroom counter and allows her to wash away the small traces of blood from the scratches. She half expects him to be a baby about it, in the grand tradition of romantic heroes battling wild beasts and then wincing when the heroine nurses his wounds, but he just smiles back at her whenever her eyes dart up to his face. Perhaps she had overreacted a little to the injury, but she won’t apologize for worrying.

“Well I wish we had some band aids or something but it seems like you’ll live. Despite your complete and utter lack of regard for your own safety.” She huffs out, tossing the soiled washcloth aside.

“I was never in any danger, Detective, nor were you. Though I wouldn’t advise approaching her again on your own.” He cautions her seriously, as if she needs to be told not to try and pet a _fucking mountain lion_. She almost laughs at his earnestness.

“No chance of that happening, her razor sharp teeth and claws are a pretty good deterrent.”

“I wouldn’t say that, I think I like my woman with claws.” He challenges, eyes turning darker as she meets his gaze.

“Even if you get scratched?” She quirks an eyebrow at him in disbelief, but she can’t help responding to his words and the intensity of his expression

“ _Especially_ if I do. Don’t think I don’t still feel your claw marks on my shoulder, kitten.” His voice rumbles into her ear, making Chloe suddenly very aware of their proximity.

“I…” Chloe sputters, torn between embarrassment and disbelief. “Sorry, I...is it really that bad? I can…” She tries to signal that he should turn around so she can check on him.

“While I do thoroughly enjoy having you play nursemaid, I was actually hoping more for a repeat performance.” He grins, finally standing up and moving towards her. Chloe instinctively takes a step back, only to meet with the very solid wall behind her.

“You _want_ me to scratch you??”  

Lucifer’s hand goes up to stroke along her jawline, leaning further into her as he answer. “What I want is to see you in _rapture_ , and so mindless with pleasure that you can’t _help_ but leave a mark.”

Chloe shudders at his words, the sound of them making her feel wild and reckless and very, very wanted. She reaches out tentatively to run one hand carefully around the scratches on his arm, sliding her hand up and back around to his shoulder, tracing her nails lightly along the path they had followed the previous morning. And she definitely doesn’t seem to have really hurt him. Quite the contrary, actually. She knows she’s not imagining the small shiver she feels in response to her touch.

And then Lucifer’s lips are suddenly on hers, pressing her back into the wall, tongue already demanding entrance into her mouth. She gladly opens up to him, tilting her head up to meet him full on while both her hands go to grip at his shoulders. Lucifer groans deliciously into their kiss when her fingertips dig into the muscle there, and she smiles at his reaction. He quickly gets back a little of his own, drawing out a gasp from her when he moves back to nip at her ear before mouthing at her neck.

His hands slide down over her sides, tickling at her ribs and running over her hips, before reaching to grip her thighs. She takes the hint and with a little hop she manages to wrap her legs around his waist, his arms catching her easily and holding her up as if she weighed nothing. She catches sight of the two of them in the mirror - her legs hooked over his hips and her hands gripping his taut back, Lucifer’s mussed head tucked into her neck where by now he’s certainly left a mark, and her own face is flushed and lips kiss-swollen. She looks...ravished. And they’re still wearing all their clothes - far too many clothes, really.

“Bedroom?” She murmurs, breath coming out a little shaky.

Lucifer responds with another little nip to her throat before pulling back to face her. “Mmm, I do like where your head is at.” He smiles.

Still supporting her as if she were weightless, he moves to carry her the short distance to the bedroom, never once taking his eyes off of her. She half expects him to kiss her passionately even as her carried her, but somehow this is even more intense. Chloe barely notices when he stops at the edge of the bed, only becoming aware of their surroundings when he finally lowers her gently onto the sheets. She gazes up as he moves over her, strong arms supporting his weight as he settles above her.

She waits for him to lean down for another kiss, but instead he just continues looking down at her in expectation, gently stroking her hair from her face.

“So will you finally admit it now?”  
  
“Admit what?” She asks honestly, brain still a little fuzzy from their kiss.

“Don’t play coy with me, Chloe.” It comes out as more of a plea than a demand, and that is when she realizes what he is asking. It’s the same question he was asking this morning, the one he’s asked her many times before in so many different words.

“I said it last night.” She reminds him, partly teasing and partly to stall.

“Yes, when you were so inebriated you couldn’t even find your own pajamas.” His tone is light but she can see the beginnings of a frown making its way onto his face.

“Are you really going to make me say it again?” Her hands reach up to run along the back of his neck, hoping to distract him, but he remains intent.

“A man does like to hear it.” He attempts a grin, but it’s not quite convincing. And she realizes he’s practically begging her at this point, as much as he can allow himself to, and that’s when she knows she’s going to give in.

She lets out a sigh, feigning being put out by this whole thing but Lucifer catches on immediately, and already she can see his expression turn hopeful once more.

“I like you.” There she said it. Now they can move on.

But no such luck - Lucifer’s grin has returned full force, though he is obviously not fully satisfied with her to-the-point confession. “And?”

“And don’t push it buddy. I said I like you.” She sighs again, before continuing on once more. “I like being with you. I like having you as my partner. I even like living in this stupid house with you and pretending to be a normal couple and eating breakfast with you everyday. Are you happy now?”

“ _Very_ ,” he admits easily, finally leaning down to kiss her again. Chloe luxuriates in the freedom of the moment, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from both their shoulders with her admission. She allows the kiss to stretch out for several long minutes, before deciding she’d like to get some answers of her own. Lucifer doesn’t resist when she reverse their positions, pulling back to ask the question that has been bothering her all morning.

“So then what does that make us exactly?”

“Are you asking if we’re going steady now?” He chuckles, and she smacks him lightly on the chest. He isn’t going to make this easier on her, which she knows she probably deserves, but she also knows she’ll drive herself crazy with wondering if she doesn’t find out now.

“I’m asking what I am to you. Am I just your partner or one of your girlfriends or what?” Apparently the mention of other women seems to quickly put an end to his teasing. He sits up beneath her, drawing her roughly back against him.

“You’re _mine_.” He practically growls, his eyes darkening.

Her’s are rolling. “How very neanderthal.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Betty Friedan, I’m just as much your’s.” And it does, actually. “But I believe you already knew that.”

“Hmm, maybe I did. But a girl does like to hear it.” She teases, throwing his own words back at him.

“Why you little minx...” His roguish grin belies the accusation, and their lips meet once more, their kiss feeling oddly like laughter.

Still smiling against her lips, he pushes her to lie back once more - this time with her head at the foot of the bed, adding to the pleasantly dizzy feeling she’s currently experiencing. Her fingers reach up to dip beneath the fabric of his collar, seeking out the warm flesh there and tracing distractedly along the back of his neck. His own fingers do not remain idle for long, reaching down to slowly unbutton her shirt ( _his_ shirt, she reminds herself). And she’s never had anyone start from the bottom of the shirt, and for some reason it’s slowly driving her crazy. His pace is maddening, tugging each individual button free before running his fingers over every inch of newly exposed flesh, the borrowed shirt slowly parting beneath his hands.

His fingers trace along her ribs and the underside of her breasts before loosening the final button, sitting back to watch as he peels away the sides of the shirt. Chloe resists the urge to turn away from the intensity of his gaze as he reveals her bare chest, body unconsciously arching into his hands. His eyes linger on her breasts, and she can feel her nipples tightening in response. He eventually leans down to plant a kiss at the very center of her chest, nuzzling gently along the line of her sternum. Her nipples are already peaked and aching from the indirect stimulation, but he continues trailing kisses everywhere except where she wants him. His hands caress the flat plane of her stomach, trailing goosebumps into their wake. But it’s not enough. Chloe arches up into him, making small noises that she hopes will encourage him to get on with it.

Finally his hands glide upwards to cup her breasts, mouth following quickly behind. As he pulls first one nipple and then its twin into his his mouth, Chloe’s hands rush to grip at his hair, holding him firmly in place. She accidentally tugs the soft strands in her hand a little too roughly at the slight hint of teeth against her breast, but Lucifer only moans against her flesh. She repeats the action, drawing out an actual growl, which she can feel vibrating through her entire body. Distantly, she can hear a buzzing noise from the direction of the nightstand, where her phone still rests, but she is thoroughly distracted by the circling of Lucifer’s tongue around the peaks of her breasts. And then his lips are on hers once again, her bare chest pressing up against the rough fabric of his shirt in a way that leaves her aching for him, heat pooling between her thighs.

She can feel his answering hardness pressing up against her center, and unconsciously grinds herself upwards, trying to relieve the throbbing between her legs.  Her thighs shift further apart, drawing Lucifer further into the cradle of her hips as she brings her legs up to wrap around his waist once more. There’s far too much clothing into the way, but the rough fabric provides some much needed friction against her aching clit as they continue rocking against one another. Her hands are still flexing against his scalp, tugging once more at the strands and earning some delicious noises from Lucifer that are quickly swallowed up in their kiss. Her moans are now fairly a constant as well - between the movement of their lower bodies and the feeling of Lucifer’s tongue battling with her own, and the way his hands grip along her sides beneath the fabric of the shirt that she still hasn’t fully removed.

Eventually she feels his hand tugging at the button of her jeans, fingers dipping below her waistband and running along the edge of her panties. When they start to travel further downward, she reluctantly breaks their kiss, “wait...”

He immediately halts the actions of his wandering hands, pulling back with a sweetly confused expression. “What is it?”

“You were literally just petting a wild animal with those hands.” She reminds him. He lets out a small chuckle, seemingly relieved that this is her only issue.

“Well I didn’t put my _mouth_ on it…”

“Well obviously, but what does that….oh!” The question dies on her lips when Lucifer bends down to trail his lips along her stomach, down to where he is now tugging her open jeans over her hips. She nearly moans at the realization of what he intends to do to her. But her stupid phone buzzes again.

“Ignore it…” he mumbles into her waist, where his teeth are currently scraping at her hipbone, making a very good case for just letting it go. But she knows she’s can’t.

“What if it’s work? Or Trixie?”

Lucifer groans into her stomach, hands dropping down to her sides, but otherwise not moving for a moment. Finally, he sits back, allowing her to tug up her jeans and reach for her phone on the nightstand. He doesn’t let her go far though, already pulling her back into his lap as she opens her voicemail. Apparently there are several missed messages.

“Most of the calls are from Ella, she wants me to come down to the station to look at something.” She relays to Lucifer, who is currently doing his level best to keep her distracted with little kisses along the line of her throat.

“I’ll come with you then.” Chloe smiles at his new eagerness to help, but the next message makes her frown.

“Ugh, and apparently the developer is dropping by in like an hour, probably to try and kick us out of the house so she can move in another family. A real one. I need to talk to her about extending our stay for another day or two.”

“Well perhaps you can go to the station and I can remain here to try and convince her?” He offers just as easily.

“And just how do you plan to do that?” She eyes him suspiciously.

“Jealous, are we? Green is a very good look on you, Detective. But no - I was simply planning to be my charming self.” He grins with mock innocence. Chloe arches her brow and crosses her arms in front of her, but this only serves to draw Lucifer’s attention back to her breasts. “Perhaps after a cold shower,” he groans.

* * *

Chloe leaves him to his cold shower (half wishing for one herself), and heads into the station after quickly getting dressed. Ella practically drags her over to the CSI department the minute she walks through the door.

“You said you had a way to narrow down our suspect list?” Chloe asks as Ella guides her over to her computer.

“I think so. We now have some really good data from our analysis of the crime scene.” She’s pulling up photos and bloodstain analysis, which doesn’t really answer Chloe’s question.

“Any results on those DNA samples yet?” She suggests.

“It’s only been like 2 days, this isn’t tv. It’s not like we even have anything to compare it to yet anyway.” Chloe’s hopes dampen a little bit, but Ella still seems excited about something. “But what we do have is a better estimate of the time of time of death and when she bled out.”

Ok, that is pretty good news. “So we know the exact time now?”

“Well not exactly, but…” Ella pauses for a moment. “Let me back up a bit. So what we do know is that she died at some point on that Thursday evening, even though we don’t know the exact time, and was later moved to a secondary site, likely by car. Which means our killer had to leave through the front gates, and pass by the security camera.”

“But we already went over all the security footage - half the neighborhood was driving out on Thursday night and Friday morning. Without an exact time we don’t know who it might have been.”

“Yes but now we know the body was stashed for at least 16-24 hours afterwards, based on the amount of blood we found by the side of the house, which means…”

“Which means someone moved her on Friday night, not Thursday.” Chloe jumps in, realizing what Ella has been trying to get at - they’ve been going off the wrong footage this whole time.

“And sometime between about 4 pm and midnight, which is a much narrower time frame.” Ella’s excitement is obvious, but Chloe isn’t ready to get her hopes up after so many false leads.

“How narrow?”

“There’s only 4 cars seen leaving The Palisades between those hours, so I thought you might want to take a look at them with me.” Ella offers casually, trying not to look too pleased with herself.

“Ella this is great!”

The other woman’s smile breaks out widely in response to Chloe’s praise, and she quickly pulls up the security footage - already cued up to 6:14 when the first car exited the gates. The footage is a little grainy in the evening light, but the driver can easily be made out.

“I think that’s Sharon. Maxine’s wife.” Chloe adds, before realizing Ella probably has no idea who any of these people are.

“Is she on the suspect list?”

“Not really, she barely knew Vidya. Plus look in the backseat.” There’s a small arm holding a soccer ball just visible behind Sharon, clearly belonging to her son.

“I’m guessing going to a body dump isn’t really a family bonding experience, huh?” She offers with her trademark morbid humor.

“Not a very fun one, at least.”

“Ok, so we can probably rule her out. Next car is at 6:47.” She quickly fast forwards. “Do you recognize her?”

Chloe spends several minutes studying the face in front of her, but she doesn’t recognize it the woman at all. “Not really, maybe she’s one of the nannies? But I don’t think she’s dragging a body along in that tiny hatchback.” That’s two cars ruled out.

“Good point. Ok, let’s move to 7:42.”

This time, she identifies the driver immediately. “That’s Richard Isaacson, and his wife Bunny. We did consider them on a possible affair angle, but there’s no real evidence there. Plus they’re leaving together, and it looks like they’re just going on a date.” Bunny’s elaborate cut out dress doesn’t really seem the thing for lugging around a body. That’s three down.

“So that just leaves one more car, at 10:55. I realize we probably should have started there, I mean what else is going on out in the boonies at 10:55? It’s gotta be our killer.”

“Just cue it up.” Chloe is suddenly impatient to see their suspect’s face. The tape plays.

“Oh but that’s…” Ella frowns in recognition.

“That’s Angela Palmer.” Chloe finishes.

“The developer lady? Was she even on the suspect list?”

“No, I mean she doesn’t technically live in the neighborhood. And she was the one who set up this whole investigation for us, and she’s…” Her eyes widen with sudden understanding.

“She’s what?”

“We kept her apprised of the investigation, she knows everything we’ve found. And she’s meeting with Lucifer at the house right now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I can't help always leaving Lucifer in danger - he makes such a great damsel in distress!


	8. Finale pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is taking forever (I guess I had more free time when I was writing Work for Idle Hands) and I decided to split it into two, just to give you guys a little resolution. The rest of the chapter will be finished by Friday, this time for real.

She runs every red light and practically plows through the Palisades’ gates in her rush to get back to the house. Their house. Where Lucifer is now unknowingly meeting with a murderer. The fact that this is becoming a near weekly occurrence for him does nothing to ease her mind. It’s not as though experience has made him any more cautious. In fact she’s almost certain he’s currently making things worse for himself. She can already picture it, even as she hurries towards the front door.

She wishes she wasn’t right.

“Perfect timing, as always, Detective.” Lucifer grunts out from where he’s currently sprawled on their living room floor, pinned down by Ms. Palmer’s taser gun. His voice is tinged with sarcasm but when she looks at him he’s still alive and relatively unharmed so it seems like her timing is rather...timely.

“Drop the weapon, Palmer.” Her gun is already out and pointed at the other woman.

“He just attacked me, Officer, I’ve done nothing wrong!” The explanation rushes out as she pulls the trigger once more, sending Lucifer into frightening convulsions. He manages to grit out a ‘I did no such thing’ through clenched teeth, and receives another shock for it.

“It’s over, we know you killed Vidya. We have you on video leaving with the body in your car.” Chloe steps forward, fighting the urge to bend down and try to help Lucifer - there’s nothing she can do for him until she disarms Ms. Palmer.

“You couldn’t possibly - why would I ever hurt that poor girl? There’s no motive!” She’s obviously trying to maintain a calm demeanour, though her voice cracks at her words and her hands still grip the taser like a lifeline.

But as much as Chloe hates to admit it, the other woman is right. There is no motive, the two women barely knew each other and losing a homebuyer had only hurt Ms. Palmer financially. She looks the other woman over, trying to decipher the reason she might have killed their victim. For all her shrillness and itchy trigger finger, she doesn’t really look like a crazy person or anything right now. Her blonde hair is still neatly pulled back over her immaculate skirt suit, not a single thing out of place, other than the slight shaking of her hands. Wait, blonde hair? Cliff! She hopes she’s right on this, it would all make sense.

“We know about you and Cliff,” Chloe throws out, “that’s why he had the key to the house, and why you killed Vidya Patel - you thought he was cheating on you with her.”

Chloe is expecting shock, or anger, but not the disgusted look that spreads over Angela Palmer’s face. “Ew, no. I’m trying to build a real estate empire here and you think I’m going to waste my time with some half-rate investment banker who can’t keep it in his pants?”

Chloe’s a little taken aback by her response. Her instincts have rarely failed her before, but if she wasn’t involved with any of the residents, then why...

A sharp grunt beside her draws her attention to the fact that Lucifer has used the moment of distraction to free himself from the taser barbs. Ms. Palmer notices too. Chloe can see in her expression that she knows she’s lost any leverage she may have had. This is usually about the time their suspects either clam up or start monologuing.

“It was those stupid cats!”

...Or they spout off nonsense. That one’s kind of new.

“But Ms. Patel didn’t own any cats?” Lucifer supplies helpfully, clearly not at his best after being hit with 50,000 volts. He pulls himself up to stand at her side, still a little wobbly but at least now he’s upright.

“The mountain lions, you idiot!” She responds, as if that makes things any clearer. Though somehow it does to Lucifer. He sets a hand on her shoulder, steadying himself as he attempts to explain.

“I may have mentioned we saw one this morning. They’re still a protected species - the woodlands around the development might be protected too if it was part of their hunting ground or linked them with potential mates.”

“That land is mine! I paid good money for it, and that annoying little twit thinks she can come in and tell me I can’t build on my own land? Just to save some stupid cats?”

“So you killed her.” Chloe states, halting her ramble. Lucifer looks deeply offended on behalf of the mountain lions.

“She was standing in the way of progress! All of those tree huggers think they’re saving the world but all they’re really doing is crippling our economy and preventing hard working Americans from doing their job!”

“Surely you could build somewhere else...” Chloe starts, but Lucifer just shakes his head. There’s no reasoning with crazy.

You can, however, handcuff crazy, and read it its rights. And then have it picked up by several police officers, who arrived on the scene shortly afterwards.

* * *

With Angela Palmer locked away the house becomes a flurry of activity, filling up with other officers and the CSI and medical teams. She and Lucifer are both cleared by the medics - apparently there’s no lasting damage from the taser on Lucifer. Which is weird, but she’s slowly getting used to weird. But there’s still questions to be answered, statements to take, and barely a moment alone to ask Lucifer if he’s ok. She finally gets a chance after the CSI team grabs a few photos of his non-existent injuries, and she manages to catch him just as he’s buttoning his shirt back up.

“Of course I’m fine, Detective, though if you’re offering to kiss it better…”

She nearly smacks him in the chest, right where he should still be injured. For all that he gets himself into the most ridiculous situations, he always comes out nearly unscathed. It's a strangely comforting habit, though it doesn't stop her worrying. Especially now that they are…

They never really settled on a term for what they are to each other, but Chloe is oddly ok with that. She knows what he feels for her, and vice versa. That conversation feels so long ago now, but in reality they were interrupted only a few short hours ago. She already misses the former peace and intimacy of their shared living room. With all the adrenaline slowly dissipating, Chloe allows herself to subtly lean into the man beside her, appreciating his nearness.

“Maybe later, if you behave.” She quietly jokes back, not wanting any of their co-workers to hear, especially since she's not entirely teasing. They definitely have some unfinished business to deal with later, but police work comes first.

Ella sidles up to them, pretending not to notice their obvious closeness. “So...mountain lions. That's a new one. I thought they avoided humans, generally?”

“With you humans encroaching further and further on their territory they're forced to hunt where they can.” Lucifer explains, while Ella just nods.

“Was there some sort of PBS nature special I missed?” Chloe adds bemusedly. How do Ella and Lucifer know all these random animal facts?

“Hey so with the crazy lady in jail, what happens to the mountain lions?” Ella asks hopefully.

“The land will probably be seized by the state, or at least get tied up in the courts for a while.” Chloe hazards a guess.

“So in the end Vidya Patel really did save those mountain lions, didn't she?”

“Well, they're not actually endangered in the state of California…” Lucifer starts, but Chloe stops him.

“Yes. She really did.”

* * *

It takes only a few moments to pack up their things - almost nothing in the house is theirs. Chloe isn’t exactly broken up about having to leave behind Barbara’s wardrobe, minus the dark blue floral dress she’s currently wearing, and she can imagine Lucifer is thrilled to ditch the chinos. He’s already back in his own clothes, waiting out in the driveway. He’s propped languorously against the side of her car, bottles of wine in hand. At this point she really shouldn't be surprised. She grabs the bottles from him, moving to stow them in the trunk along with her few bags.

By the time she gets back to the front of the car, Lucifer has already situated himself in the driver seat. The keys she swore were in her pocket just a second ago are currently being used to start the engine. Lucifer rolls down the window and looks up at her with his usual grin - somehow perfectly innocent and entirely wicked all at once.

“You know this is my car, right?”

“I’m well aware of that fact, Detective. I’m also well aware of your penchant for driving like a septuagenarian when you’re not pursuing criminals.”

“Just because I follow the speed limit…”

“Yes, exactly. And while that might normally be an admirable trait in an officer of the law, I’d really like to leave this hellhole behind at full bloody speed.”

Chloe avoids rolling her eyes again only out of fear of spraining them, and reluctantly settles into the passenger seat. Lucifer immediately reverses out the driveway before she even has her seatbelt on, which she adjusts with a glare towards the man at the wheel. But he is already speeding out the neighborhood, leaving the other houses in a blur behind them.

Chloe wants to yell at him to slow down when she’s distracted by an alert from her phone. It’s from Dan.

“Why is Dan saying he’ll meet me at the house at 9:30? It’s barely 4 and we’re only half an hour away…” She mumbles more to herself than anyone else.

Lucifer grins, “I took the liberty of texting Detective Douche while you were packing up your things. I may have mentioned that we’d be done here by 9, and you would be home shortly after.”

“But we’re already done for the day, and we’re not expected back at the station until tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly aware, Detective. Which leaves us with five blissful, uninterrupted hours…”

“Five hours for what?”

Lucifer gives her a look as if she is deliberately misunderstanding him, which she...

“Oh!”

“I would have preferred a full twenty-four, though I’m fairly certain it will take at least several months, possibly years, to even begin to get through all the things I want to do to you…”

He turns to look at her, gaze searing when she finally meets his eyes. She can feel her earlier arousal creeping back just from his words, and the expectation in his voice. The idea of ‘years’ feels heavy in the best way possible.

“But for now I will take what I can get, as I’m sure you would not take kindly to me keeping you from your offspring any longer than this.”

“Not today, at least,” she reluctantly agrees. “It’s been nearly a week without her.”

“If you wish to see her sooner…” The words come out a bit strained, but she can tell he would simply drop her off at home without argument if she asked him to. It’s noble of him to offer, but she decides to take pity on him - on both of them.

“She and Dan will be alright for another couple hours without me. I’m not sure I could say the same for you.” She teases, “But twenty four hours?”

“Worried you couldn't keep up?” He falls easily back into their usual banter, grin now firmly back in place

“I'm not sure anyone could.” She states with a laugh.

“I assure you I can and you will, and you’ll thoroughly enjoy every second of it.”

Her laughter comes to an abrupt halt at the conviction in his tone. He’s completely serious, but even more surprising is her reaction to his words. A jolt of lust shoots straight to her core at the thought, and she tries to press her thighs together discreetly just to alleviate some of the tension. But it only intensifies the sudden aching between her legs, and the move definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by the man beside her. His hand drifts from the gear shift to her left thigh, trailing along the bit of bare skin revealed by her skirt. The gentle circling of his thumb against the inside of her knee should have had a calming effect on her, but instead she just feels more wound up than ever. She’s not entirely convinced that wasn’t his intention.

“Relax, Detective…” He gently commands, voice rumbling over her and doing nothing to ease the tension suffusing her entire body and centering between her thighs.

“You relax!” As comebacks go, it’s not her best, but she realizes she’s been on edge since this morning - in more ways than one. It suddenly feels far too warm within the car, and her hand goes up to tug back her hair from her neck and shoulders.

But Lucifer just chuckles at her response, allowing his hand to drift slightly higher, until his fingers run along the edge of her skirt. Her breath catches when his pinky barely dips below the fabric, brushing against her inner thigh. The rest of his fingers soon follow, at the same careful pace, either to give her time to stop him or to slowly drive her insane - she’s not sure which. Though she might already be past the point of insanity because she never had any thought of stopping him.

His eyes remain firmly on the road, which passes far too rapidly for her comfort, while his fingers inch slowly beneath her skirt. His wrist catches on the hem, dragging the fabric up along with it. She can’t believe she’s actually letting him do this. She just hopes they’re not pulled over for speeding, or public indecency. With their luck it would be Dan that pulls them over. Lucifer would probably love that, actually. And it says something about her current state of sexual frustration that the thought doesn’t automatically have her pushing him away. Instead she allows his hand to continue its tantalizing journey along her inner thigh.

Her right leg shifts unconsciously to the side, opening her further to his hand’s explorations. His fingers draw nearer and nearer to where she wants them, and she can feel her excitement soaking through the thin cotton of her panties. It’s going to be very obvious just how eager her body is for his touch but she finds she doesn’t really care. She should also probably be concerned that he’s still driving at a rather alarming speed, but she knows he would never let anything happen to them. So she shuts her eyes and allows the outside world to fade away, purely focused on the feel of his hand as it continues upwards.

She’s hyper aware of his every movement, and it almost feels as though it’s happening in slow motion, despite the overwhelming speed of the world around them. It feels as though several lifetimes pass before he finally reaches the top of her thigh, until his fingers are just brushing the lace edge of her panties. Even now, his fingers continue their maddening pace, trailing along the lace until until she thinks she might spontaneously combust.

It’s both a shock and a relief when his hand finally slips down to cup her center, the heat of his palm searing through the sodden fabric of her underwear. She moans at the contact. For far too long he simply rests his hand there, doing little to soothe the ache between her thighs. She presses back against his palm, seeking more pressure, more friction.

“ _Lucifer._..” She means it as a rebuke, but it comes out as a plea. Still, it produces the desired effect. Lucifer’s fingers finally press against her, dragging along her center until they reach the bundle of nerves at the apex before sliding down to start the process over again.

It’s still not quite enough, and her hips shift of their own accord to meet his fingers with each stroke. Her hands grip at the door handle and the center console as she rocks deliberately against the movement of his hands. He presses back more firmly but still she needs more. Seeming to sense this, he finally pushes aside the fabric of her panties, allowing his fingers to slip between her bare folds, slight callouses deliciously rough against her over sensitized flesh. They glide down further, barely dipping into her entrance, before spreading her wetness up to her clit and circling it with slick fingers. She risks a glance over at him to see him grinning in his seat.

“You know, you really should wear skirts more often, I must say this is delightfully convenient.”

“Not really a skirt kind of girl…” She breathes out, biting back a moan when he reaches down again to dip a finger inside her, barely more than a tease. There’s not really enough enough space for more, but it leaves her with a pleasant ache deep inside.

“Then I’ll just have to get more creative.” He challenges back, but she doesn’t spare a thought to worry what that might mean for the future. Right now she is very much in the present, where Lucifer’s fingers have found the perfect rhythm against her clit. She can already feel herself nearing the edge after all the teasing. Her legs are trembling even as her hands grip more tightly against the car around her.

All the while Lucifer is still weaving through the surrounding traffic with frightening determination, speeding towards home. Chloe barely notices anymore, lost in the sensation of his fingers moving with equal fervor against her. But the jarring sound of a car horn brings her swiftly back to reality, eyes flying open just in time to see Lucifer cutting another car off.

“Slow down!” She gasps out automatically, but he takes no notice of her choked out command. Or at least it doesn’t seem to have any effect on his driving speed, though the fingers circling her clit have now slowed to an agonizing pace.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She groans in frustration.

“Perhaps you care to be a little more _explicit_ , Detective.” He purrs.

“Just...get us home in one piece. Please.”

“Well, since you did say _please...”_ His fingers move once more at that perfect pace, and she feels herself sinking deeper into her seat. She can’t decide if she wants this to end or if she wants him to draw it out forever. It’s rapidly spiraling beyond her control.

“This is only the first of many, love.” He finally looks over at her, dark eyes leaving the road only momentarily but it’s enough, the heat of his gaze along with the promise of his words, to send her rushing over the edge. Her legs close instinctively around his hand, still firmly pressed against her clit as she rides wave after wave of sensation, her entire body shuddering in release. It’s several long moments because she comes down enough to free his hand, falling back against the seat just as the car comes to a careful stop.

“Well, it looks like we’ve finally arrived.” He announces with a cheshire grin as they conveniently pull into the lot by Lux. She wonders if he somehow timed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the final chapter is just going to be pure smut, hope that's ok :P
> 
> Also hopefully the ending didn't seem too out of left field, I think I mentioned Divya was an environment lawyer nearly every chapter, plus the fact that the construction stops at the forest line several times as well :P Mountain lions, along with several other species I considered for the last chapter, really are protected in California and so are their hunting grounds.


	9. Finale pt. 2

The elevator ride up to Lucifer’s apartment is excruciating. Chloe had generally expected to be thrown up against the wall and kissed within an inch of her life the second the doors closed (or possibly even before). Instead Lucifer steps behind her, barely touching her except to brush her hair over her shoulder in order to place featherlight kisses against the back of her neck, trailing across her exposed shoulder. Long fingers toy with the straps of her dress but he makes no move to undress her just yet. And she’s still riding the high of her recent orgasm but she can already feel her desire growing once more. She has no idea how Lucifer can still be this calm, this in control, after an entire week of exquisite tension.

A little of his control finally slips as his teeth close around the point where her neck meets shoulder, and he bites down perhaps a little harder than he intended to. She draws in a sharp breath at the pain/pleasure of it, and Lucifer draws back to soothe the bite with his tongue in apology. But Chloe doesn’t want him to be sorry, she just wants more. She reaches back to pull him against her, feeling the evidence of Lucifer’s steadily growing impatience pressed against her lower back. He groans at the sudden contact, hands gripping her upper arms - whether to keep her close or prevent her from doing more she isn’t sure. But after a moment his grip loosens, and his hands slide forward to cover her breasts. She grinds herself back against him, drawing out another long groan. In retaliation, his fingers seek out her peaked nipples through the thin fabric of her dress, expertly rolling them between thumb and forefinger as he presses back against her shifting hips.

It’s her turn to moan, and then suddenly she can’t take it anymore, twisting around in his embrace to kiss him like she had wanted to at the beginning of the ride. Only this time she’s the one pressing him against elevator doors, tugging his face down to meet her lips. She can feel him smiling against her mouth, clearly pleased at this turn of events, but the moment is short-lived as the elevator dings and the doors open behind them.

They nearly fall back into the apartment but Lucifer’s grace manages to save them at the last moment. He quickly reverses their positions, allowing him to lead her into the apartment without once breaking their kiss. She feels her back bump into something behind her, and she spares a thought to her Pretty Woman/piano sex fantasy, but she realizes that they’re on the other side of the room, pressed up against his bookcases. More specifically, against the ladder propped up against the shelves. Lucifer’s hands shift to her waist, easily lifting her onto the first rung.

They’re nearly the same height now, which makes it so much easier for him to press the full length of his body against her own. She can feel the deceptive strength coiled there, and the almost unnatural heat his body seems to put out. She can also feel his hardness pressed up against her center where their hips are now perfectly aligned. Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him deeper into her kiss and closer to her.

They remain like this for several long moments before Chloe begins pushing at his suit jacket, suddenly desperate to feel more of him. Lucifer immediately obliges, allowing the jacket to slip from his shoulders to pool at the floor behind them, and then she’s tugging his shirt free from his trousers and reaching for the buttons, eager to touch the warm skin beneath.

This time Lucifer doesn’t help her, and generally hinders her progress with very distracting kisses down the line of her throat. His tongue dips into the well of her collarbone just as she’s struggling with the final button and she nearly pulls it clean off. Lucifer finally aids her in removing the garment, and then her hands are immediately trailing over the miles of bare skin now revealed to her. But Lucifer grasps her wrists before she can fully explore. Instead he raises her hands above her head, pressing them against the ladder rung just above.

“What...?” She breathes out in confusion, wondering why he’s now stopping her from touching him.

“You’ll want to hold on for this,” he grins rakishly up at her, before easily sliding down to his knees. She suddenly realizes that he’s also placed her at the perfect height for…

“Since we were so rudely interrupted this morning,” he reminds her, as if she could have forgotten.

He allows his hands to run up and down her legs, caressing and kneading the muscles as he travels the length of them, no teasing touch this time. She realizes that her legs have already begun shaking a little, and she tightens her grip on the ladder above her. She doubts her legs will be able to hold her for long at this rate - and he’s barely even touched her.

Soon his lips begin to follow the path of his hands, gently kissing the insides of her knees, the tops of her thighs, the small triangle of freckles her dress no longer covers. His hands drift higher with each pass, slipping beneath her skirt and gliding over her hips. Lucifer’s fingers finally hook into the edge of her panties, drawing them down and over her legs, carefully lifting one foot and then the other so she can slip out of them.

With their removal, he leans back to gaze up at her. She expects to see another smug grin (well deserved, at least) and is surprised to see an honest smile on his face. The rare, real kind that she’s already begun to think of as being just her’s. She offers up a small smile in return, letting go of any feelings of nervousness as he slowly draws her skirt up over her thighs.

“You’re gorgeous, darling.” He states, eyes still focused on her face for all that she’s now entirely bared before him.

“Thank you?” Chloe’s not entirely sure how to respond to the compliment right now, but he just chuckles in response. Some of the tension of the moment breaks a little, and she allows herself to laugh as well. But her laughter is short-lived, as Lucifer bends forward to press a kiss mere inches from where she wants him most.

He then reaches down to lift her left foot up to the next highest rung, easing her leg to the side to open her further to him, even as he continues to gently kiss at her hips and belly, nosing along the crease of her thigh. The stubble along his jaw scrapes deliciously against the sensitive flesh there and she can only imagine how they both look right now - her, splayed out against the ladder, back arched in wanton display, and him, kneeling before her, head pressed temptingly between her thighs.

Her eyes flutter shut, and she bites her lower lip as the sweet torment continues. One hand drifts away from its hold on the ladder, threading through Lucifer’s dark hair and gently encouraging him towards her need.

“Ah ah ah, darling. I won’t be rushed. I’ve been waiting for months to taste you.” A careful bite to her inner thigh nearly has her knees giving out, and her hand reaching back up to resume its hold on the ladder above.  

She nearly slips again when he draws her dress up further, dipping his tongue into her navel and sending a another rush of heat to pool at her center.

“You know I do believe I’m really making a very good case for skirts, here.” His words tickle across her belly.

“You’d make a much better case if you’d actually _do_ something down there…” she huffs out, her need starting to overwhelm her enjoyment of his teasing touch.

“Patience is a virtue, Detective.” He gently scolds with a nip to her waist.

“And so is mercy...Ah!” Lucifer of course chooses that exact moment to plunge his tongue into her folds, his firm grip on her waist the only thing that keeps her steady.  Her back arches at the sensation, several unintelligible sounds pouring from her lips as her toes curl around the ladder rungs.

Chloe’s uncertain whether this really is mercy - even with Lucifer now right where she wants him, he’s still driving her mad. The movement of his mouth against her is setting her every nerve on fire as he runs his tongue along her inner folds, occasionally circling her clit or dipping into her entrance. She can feel his fingers digging into her hips, a rough counterpoint to the softness of mouth that only heightens the sensation. She no longer notices the ladder digging into her back and neck, her entire attention focused on the pleasure at her center.

And of course Lucifer is incredible at this, his mouth deliciously obscene against her - she’d almost be annoyed at the fact except she’s clearly reaping all the benefits here. And as much as she doesn’t want to feed his already inflated ego (well earned or not), she can’t help the small gasps and moans that escape her as he continues, and it’s only his hands at her hips that keep her from bucking up against his mouth. Her splayed leg still tries to close in, attempting to draw Lucifer even closer, but his broad shoulders keep her spread out before him. Her stomach muscles quake at his continued onslaught, the heat of his mouth and the slickness of his tongue.

When his mouth closes around her aching clit, she finally manages a single word, “ _Lucifer”._

But then he returns to lapping at her entrance, before allowing his tongue to plunge in, causing her to cry out in pleasure. She can feel his tongue stroking against her inner walls and her muscles clench around the delicious intrusion. He moans against her sudden tightness and she can feel in rumbling through her, making her entire body shudder with delight. And It’s completely wonderful but just shy of being enough, so she’s grateful when he returns to her clit.

Here he continues humming against her, the gentle vibrations bringing her pleasure to new heights. She can already feel herself nearing the edge of exquisite release once more. It feels harder to breath against the sensations, her back arching almost painfully in ecstasy. Chloe’s thighs are now quaking with the effort to support her, and one of Lucifer’s hands relinquishes its grip on her to run soothingly along her side. This frees her hips to rock back against his heated mouth, which he skillfully meets, licking and suckling at her in perfect rhythm.

The barest hint of teeth against her clit has her crying out, but it’s the feeling of him moaning against her, the pleasure he takes at doing this to her, that finally sends her over the edge. Her hands slip from the ladder to clutch at Lucifer as she shudders with the intensity of her orgasm. He holds her carefully through it all, tongue still tracing gentle circles to draw out her release even further.

She’s still shaking for several minutes afterwards, sliding bonelessly down the ladder into Lucifer’s waiting arms. She kisses him clumsily, moaning at the taste of herself still lingering on his lips. Chloe feels completely euphoric, joy bubbling out as laughter against his lips. She can feel Lucifer smiling back, and reaching up to brush her mussed hair from her face as he continues kissing her through her giggling.

When he sits back on his heels he draws Chloe further into his lap, and she’s reminded that she’s now gotten off twice and Lucifer has been almost entirely neglected here. Her giggles subside at this, and she reaches down to run shaky fingers over the bulge in his trousers. Lucifer groans into her mouth and pulls her more tightly against him. This move manages to dislodge her awkward hands and leave her bare sex pressed against the rough fabric of his pants. It’s not an entirely comfortable sensation against her sensitized flesh but she finds herself grinding back against his hardness all the same.

He nearly growls at the movement, and in an instant he has them upright. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, still holding her hips against his own. She’s not entirely sure how he manages this, but she’s thankful he doesn’t expect her to stand right now. This time he carries her further into the apartment, sharing another indulgent kiss as they finally make their way towards his bedroom.

When they reach his bed, she collapses gracelessly back against it, surprised that he doesn’t immediately follow her. But he’s leaning down to carefully unbuckle her sandals, freeing her feet at last (how is she even still wearing those?), before toeing off his own shoes. With this task complete he finally joins her, crawling up her body until he’s grinning down at her like some predatory cat. But as Lucifer had recently demonstrated, even the biggest cats could be tamed.

And she’s still loose and relaxed from before, but she somehow finds the energy to reach up and stroke along his abdomen, enjoying the way the muscles there jump beneath her touch. Both of his arms are holding him above her, giving her free rein to run her hands over all the exposed skin in front of her. She takes full advantage, trailing her hands along his sides and beautiful chest, running down the strong arms braced beside her shoulders. Lucifer is practically purring at her touch, further adding to the picture of him as some overgrown cat that she’s somehow managed to domesticate. Mostly. There’s still a wildness to him, but she finds she rather likes that aspect of his personality at times. Like now, when he’s bending down to plunder her mouth with his own. Her own fingers slide delicately along his jaw, drawing him deeper into the kiss.

At the same time, her legs move to twist around his own, pulling them even closer and bringing their hips to meet once more. She writhes beneath him at the feeling of his length pressed to her through far too many layers, moaning into his mouth as he grinds down against her. She breaks their kiss to gasp out, “Why are you still wearing pants?”

Lucifer chuckles back, “That’s easily remedied, pet.”

But instead of reaching for his belt he’s pushing up her dress. However, he’s quickly halted by the zipper. He rolls them over to give himself better access, tugging down the zipper and slipping his hands beneath the parted fabric. Warm, broad palms run over her bare back, and she nearly melts at the touch. But they’re both still wearing far too many clothes, and she can't allow this to continue for any longer. Her head falls briefly to his chest where she bites at his pectoral in admonishment, before sitting up to pull the dress over her head. Once free, she looks down at Lucifer lying below her, breath halting at the awe in his gaze. And she does her best to just let him look his fill, and not rush to cover up, but the reverence she sees there is almost too much.

“You’ve seen me naked before,” she attempts to lighten the mood a little.

“Yes, but never when I could touch you. Never when you were _mine_.”

Raw desire overtakes his expression of pure worship, and she feels far more equipped to deal with this. He pulls her down into another powerful kiss, turning them back over to run his hands all along her newly revealed flesh. His hands never cease for a moment, running over her belly and breasts, never staying too long in one spot. Her own hands aren’t idle either, slipping over the warm flesh of his back and gripping at his shoulders. She lets her fingernails dig into the soft skin there, remembering how much he appreciated it before.

Soon his mouth is following the path of his hands, kissing down her throat and along her shoulders, nipping lightly at her collarbone.  Chloe arches up against him as his lips trail along the tops of her breasts. His hands have finally slowed their wandering over her ribs, gliding up gently to cup her, pressing her upwards towards his waiting mouth. She gasps out as his lips wrap around a tight nipple, pulling it into his heated mouth and laving it with his tongue. The other he delicately rolls between his fingers, switching occasionally, never neglecting either.

In the midst of her pleasure, her legs draw up further, feet coming to his waist to push at his pants which he’s still somehow wearing. But his belt is getting in the way, and she sighs in frustration. Lucifer hears this and pulls away from her chest to look down at her.

“Tell me, Detective, what is it you most desire?” He grins.

It comes out very differently than when he’s interrogating suspects, or even when he’s attempting to use his ‘powers’ on her, but it’s no less maddening now. Her answer comes out rather forcefully. “For you to get on with it!”

“So bossy,” he grins cheekily. “I love it!”

But he’s quick to obey, slipping off his belt as she goes for the fastenings of his trousers. Within moments she frees him from his pants, grasping his impressive length in her hands. Lucifer’s head drops to her shoulder with a groan as she begins carefully stroking him, learning the shape and feel of him. Her thumb rubs over the tip, and he shudders against her.  Chloe suddenly can’t wait to have him inside her.

She nearly whimpers when he draws back from her, but it’s merely to slip fully out of his pants - she certainly appreciates the sight of him full naked before her -  and to grab a condom from the nightstand. “I don’t believe the world is quite ready for the anti-Christ just yet...”

She rolls her eyes as he tears the foil and slides on the barrier, before she tugs him back down with her and draws him into the cradle of her thighs. She can feel him slipping against her slick heat, occasionally bumping against her clit, but she needs more. She pulls Lucifer closer, and he seems takes the hint, grasping his length to guide it against her entrance. But he simply holds it there, leaning back to gaze down at her for several long moments before he moves against her.

She moans at the unexpected tenderness of his expression as he slides into her at last, reveling in the delicious stretch of him filling her. When he’s fully sheathed, he pauses, allowing her to get used to the feeling of fullness. His hand reaches up to push her hair back from her face, eyes never leaving her own for a moment. It nearly overwhelms her, the affection held in his gaze and the sensation of him fully inside her at last.

After a while, she can can feel her inner muscles begin to flutter around him, and this seems to be enough to encourage him to finally move. His pace is leisurely at first, the slow drag of him against her slick inner walls creating sparks of electricity that fill her entire body. Her own hips slowly begin to rise up and meet his, building a steady rhythm between the two of them.

Even though she’s already come twice within the past couple of hours, she can feel her need building once more. It doesn’t help when Lucifer’s hand slips between their bodies, thumb moving expertly against her clit and stoking her desire even further. She feels utterly wanton beneath him, writhing against him and demanding more.

Lucifer only encourages this need, angling his hips perfectly to hit that spot inside her that has her nails digging deeper into his back. There will definitely be scratches there tomorrow. Her mouth is pressed against his shoulder to muffle the sounds she can’t seem to stop, but a particularly deep thrust has her biting into his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. Lucifer is clearly pleased by her reaction, and thrusts again. But she has already released his shoulder and her cry rings out loudly in the room. _“Yes! Lucifer!”_

Her own name, her real one, along with a number of endearments are breathed into her neck in his perfect rumbling accent. She had always imagined a lot more innuendo and dirty talk from him but this is so much better. She feels cherished, even loved, as the words pour out against her skin.

But as much as Chloe just wants to live forever in this moment, they’re both growing more desperate. She can feel his pace already growing more frantic as the pleasure mounts between them. Neither of them is going to last very long.

Their rhythm grows rapidly, both of them begin to move feverishly against one another. Chloe grasps Lucifer so tightly against her his hand barely has any room to move, but it’s enough just to have the barely there circles of his thumb, his sweat-slick skin sliding against her own.

She can feel it as her release finally comes upon her, starting at her toes and working its way up until she’s shattering around him. She nearly blacks out with the force of it, and she can feel her inner muscles contracting around Lucifer’s length still moving inside her. He doesn’t last much longer, his rhythm faltering as she clenches around him. He gasps out her name as his control finally slips away, groaning as he comes.

He tries not to collapse onto her afterward, but Chloe can feel his muscles trembling with the effort to continue holding him above her, and tugs him down on top her. His full weight on her, pressing her down and enveloping her, is actually kind of nice. Her body feels loose and exhausted in the best possible way, and it’s flattering to know that Lucifer is in much the same state right now. She holds him in her embrace for what feels like hours, but realistically could only be several minutes.

“So, about this promise of twenty four hours…” Chloe can’t help but tease.

“Give a man a few minutes to recover.” He groans against her neck. “And then I’m all yours.”

“You’re already all mine, and I think I kind of like you like this.” She smiles. “Besides, I’m not sure I could handle twenty four hours right now.”

He manages to lift his head with some effort to look her over with concern. “Are you alright? I hope I didn’t…”

“You were perfect.” She reassures. The risk of inflating his already overblown ego is worth it for the way he beams down at her.

“It seems we’ll both have to work up to it. You are an unexpected delight, Chloe Decker.” Her own pride swells at his words and clear satisfaction.

Finally, he finds the energy to shift his weight off of her and lie back, pulling her along with him to lay across his chest. She allows herself to just enjoy being curled up together like this for several more moments, before risking a glance at the time. It’s nearly nine already. She’s not sure she’s ready to return to the real world just yet, but she knows she needs to soon.

“So what now? Where do we go from here?” She chances to ask, not entirely sure what comes next for them. But Lucifer just looks down at her with an indulgent smile.

“Well I was thinking I might stop by and make breakfast for you and your offspring tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want you going hungry now that you've been so spoiled.”

And she can’t help but smile back, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding before curling deeper into his chest and relaxing against him.

“I think I'd like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just barely making my clearly overly ambitious deadline to finish this, but here's 4000 words of smut for all of those of you who have stuck with my throughout this whole story! I hope it satisfies (and isn't too mushy at the end)! 
> 
> And definitely let me know what you think. Maybe there will be another Chloe/Lucifer fic in the future!


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